Animal I have Become
by TaitinTheSylph
Summary: He'd been kidnapped! How will he get out of this? and best question of all why would someone want to kidnap him.
1. Chapter 1

**Animal I have become**

**Chapter 1**

He'd been kidnapped!

Marty Deeks came awake to anger pulsing through him. He could vaguely recall the cold hands grabbing him, the needle breaking the skin on his neck. The warm feeling as the drugs moved through his bloodstream rendering him unconscious.

Now, his head ached terribly as the drug began to wear off. His chest throbbed; he tried not to take deep breaths of fears of broken or cracked ribs. His throat was so dry; he licked his lips slowly opening his eyes.

He was alone thankfully, lying face down in a small room. He wore only his boxers, he was defiantly alone, and thankful for that much. The sound of dripping water in the distance made him moan. His body told him to stand, to move to the water. Pushing himself up he is overcome by a wave of nausea and dizziness, falling back he hits a firm lumpy wall. The course material digs into his flesh. Letting himself painfully slide down, he figured water and moving where off his to do list. That is until the drugs are free from his system.

Instead he focused on the how. Pushing through the clouds in his mind, he remembers leaving mission and going straight to the beach. The surfing prime he stayed out till sunset. He remembers walking to his car. He focused, his car was there and next to it was a green and white Volkswagen van. He stared at the image, blankets covered the side windows. It had two long boards in the roof, just a surfer's vehicle. Nothing to be worried about, he moved to his car resting his board against the side. Digging out his keys, then his memory was blank he couldn't remember anything after that just waking up in his prison.

"Come on Marty, focus." He growled at himself.

Closing his eyes he was back at his car digging for his keys. The sound of grinding metal like a door sliding open, it was faint but there. Looking at his reflection in his car window he saw two black figures standing behind him.

Opening his eyes he wanted to slam his own pounding head against the wall, they were in the van the whole time. Clenching his hand he slammed it down on the cement floor instead. Sam would kill him, when he found out how stupid the young detective was. A sobering thought crossed his mind, if Sam found out.

A heavy click made him snap back into reality, he was still stuck in the small stone room, drugged and alone. The heavy metal door he had forgotten to notice whined as it opened inwards. His eyes slowly blinked, two figures stepped in.

The one two his right was tall and thin, his face was long, all his features matched. When he smiled at him his teeth where stained yellow. The man's features reminding the young detective of a rat. The second man is as wide as he is tall. His face round and pudgy, his blue eyes were much too small for his face.

"Good morning, sunshine." the rat spoke lowering himself so he could look him in the eye. His breath was heavy with smoke, Deeks rolled his head away. "Come on now, boss is waiting."

The rats pulled a smooth metal collar from behind him. He spun the thick metal collar around his finger. A smile crept across his face, his beady eyes lit up. Deeks tried to fight him off, though his arms where still too heavy to be fully useful he still pushed, still tried to fight them off. Fear washed up from his stomach to his throat, the collar clicked locked against his throat. It was too tight, restricting his breath; he mindlessly pulled at the heavy metal. The rat and his partner stepped back watching him in silent enjoyment.

The rat pulled out a little black device; it looked more like a car door opener. He waved it in front of Deeks, "you try to take it off," he mimicked pressing the button. "You do anything, hell even if I don't like the way you're looking at me." His thumb dropped down.

Electricity rushed down from the collar, immobilizing Deeks instantly. Crying out he struggled to keep the darkness at bay. With the mixture of drugs and electricity running through his body it didn't take long for him to succumb. His eyes twitched, finally he slumped over.

**a/n: sorry for any grammar or errors they are soley mine and mine alone. I have yet to find a Beta to help me...**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N Thanks To everyone who has read & reviewed, followed and favored my story. It means so much to me. Also thanks you so much to cat4444 for putting up with me and giving me even more ideas for this chapter and more to follow.**

Chapter 2

Kensi sat at her desk, her knee mindlessly bouncing as she glanced up at the clock, then to her partner's empty desk. It was Deek's style to be late, but it was almost an hour. Sam and Callen were already in the gym. Kensi had booked herself and Deeks some time at the shooting range since she had to retake her marksmanship recertification test later that day, and Deeks had promised that he would practice with her. Standing, she rolled her eyes, looking at her partner's desk, knowing well enough he had probably spent the night at the bar, and, hung over, he just forgot about her. She began to chew her lip; Deeks had never let her down like this before, and it hurt more than she ever thought it would. Her jaw clenched as she pushed away from her desk, deciding to fire off a few rounds to clear her head.

Deciding not to wait any longer, she pushed her chair into her desk and headed for the shooting range, pausing when she heard Hetty's strained voice say, "I understand, Detective Bates." The Operations Manager walked toward her, cell phone to her ear. She didn't look impressed; holding her hand up, she motioned for Kensi to stay where she was. "Yes, I will send someone over to check."

After listening to what Detective Bates had to add, Hetty remarked, "No this is news to me."

She paused listening intently to the Detective on the other line. "No he has not signed his forms to join us." Kensi felt her stomach drop; she knew her partner was still struggling with the idea to join NCIS. Hetty shook her head listening to the Detective on her phone. Closing the phone, she looked at Kensi. "Miss Blye."

"Yes, Hetty?" Feeling uneasy, Kensi folded her arms, and looked around; hoping Callen or Sam would take some of the tension off.

"Would you please go to Mr. Deeks' residence, and check up on him?" As Hetty slid her phone into her pocket, Kensi opened her mouth to ask why, but, before she could say anything, Hetty continued, "He resigned from the LAPD this morning. Detective Bates called me to ask if I knew what was going on."

Kensi felt like she had just walked into a wall. Deeks? Resign from the LAPD? She knew her partner, and she never thought he would do something that rash. She shook her head, snatching her jacket; at least she thought she knew him. She ignored the banter coming from Sam and Callen as they entered the bullpen. Hetty would deal with them.

As she hurried to her car, so many thoughts flashed through her mind. Had they been so tough on him that he would quit? Did she say or do anything to hurt him? She tapped her finger on the steering wheel, she had openly flirted with him, but she hadn't meant anything by it, he knew that. She swallowed hard; at least she hoped he knew it. Besides, she thought, he was seeing that bartender, but she blanked on her name. Slamming her hand on the steering wheel, she tried to recall her name, Tina . . . Tammy . . . something that started with a T. Grinding her teeth, she turned onto the street where Deeks' apartment was located.

As she pulled into the parking lot, she saw that his parking stall was empty. Sucking in her breath, she took the steps to Deeks' apartment two at a time. His door was just before her. Raising her hand to knock, she paused. What would she do if he answered? What could she say to convince him to stay?

"He's gone," a soft voice said, making her turn. An older lady holding a white fluff ball of a dog approached Kensi. The lady smiled at her and continued, "Martin's gone."

"I'm sorry?" she questioned.

"He paid out two months' rent and cleaned out his apartment last night." She scratched the dog behind the ear.

"Did you see him? Did he say anything?" Kensi felt a bubble work up her throat as she tried to control her emotions.

"No, I talked to him on the phone." She looked off into space, shrugging her shoulders. "Said he'd send a moving crew to clean out his things and that he was leaving something inside for a friend to pick up. I can let you in if you'd like."

"Thanks." Kensi assumed he left whatever it was for her, something to tell her what he was doing. She waited for the woman to return with a ring of keys.

Opening the door, Kensi looked at the empty apartment, everything was gone except for a cell phone, watch, badge, and a yellow piece of paper on the counter. Kensi stepped inside; until now she had been worried for him. Anger washed over her as she picked up what he left behind. She tightened her grip around the letter, not wanting to read it. He was such a coward to do this. She thought she knew him, but she was wrong. Putting his things in her pocket, she again thanked the woman and left.

Arriving at the Mission, she felt sick to her stomach. Sam was sitting at his desk and stood up when she entered, waiting for her to say something. Shaking her head at him, she headed into Hetty's office. She could see the disappointment on the older agent's face as he sat back down. She knew Sam had some troubles with Deeks, but she knew he respected him.

Callen sat talking quietly with Hetty; he didn't seem pleased with what they were discussing. "Miss Blye, any news on Mr. Deeks?"

Kensi handed over what was left of her partner, "He's gone, his apartment is cleared out. This is what he left behind, and a note I haven't read yet."

Callen muttered under his breath, pushed the chair back with too much force and walked out. Hetty took the small trinkets; thanking Kensi. Opening the letter, Hetty read it quietly to herself. Shaking her head, she handed the letter to Kensi. "This is for you, not me."

Kensi reached for the paper, in no mood to read Deeks' sorry excuses for leaving. Walking back to her desk, she dropped down in her chair. Sam was quietly talking with Callen; he glanced at her giving her a 'You good?' nod. She shook her head; no she wasn't good. He left her a note, wasn't even man enough to tell her to her face. No, right now all she wanted to do was track him down and beat him into submission.

She stared at the yellow piece of paper. Too upset to read it, she folded it up and tucked it into her back pocket. She didn't want to be bothered by this right now. Yet again, she was left alone, and she really didn't care what her partner thought.

A whistle broke her musing; Eric stood on the landing staring down into the bullpen. "We got one." He turned and walked up the stairs. As the junior agent watched, she noted his slow movements. She knew Deeks had gotten close to the tech over the last year. She ground her teeth; he hurt a lot of people. Standing, she followed Sam and Callen up the stairs.

Nell was talking softly to Eric, who looked like hell. Kensi tried not to stare; tried to keep her focus on Hetty. Sam stood to her right; his presence enough to keep her in check.

"Petty officer Shane Redington washed up this afternoon." Hetty spoke, her hands clamped behind her back. An image of a young man flashed on the screen. He had soft brown eyes and short hair. Kensi found herself frowning as she stared at his face. "He was reported missing two weeks ago by his commanding officer. The coroner has not released his report on the cause of death, but police on scene confirm he looked to have been tortured. Petty Officer Redington work on some highly classified cases for the Navy. We need you to find out if anything was leaked."

"Kensi, go to speak with his commanding officer, Sam and I will check out his house." Callen directed, then, looking at the two techs, said, "Dig up everything on the Petty Officer two weeks before he went missing. Let me know if anything jumps out."

Everyone went to do what they needed to do. Kensi spent the afternoon with Redington's commanding officer, and learned nothing useful to the investigation. She did learn that he was bright and heading up the ladder already as he had a promotion lined up, but that was before he went missing. He was liked by his team and was an all-around good guy.

She headed back to the Mission, no closer to any answers, and found herself driving by Deeks' favourite spot to surf. Pulling into the parking lot, she stared out over the water, watching the waves roll in. She couldn't help but think about her partner, wonder where he was, if he was thinking about her. She chewed on her lip; the letter was burning a hole in her pocket. She felt maybe now would be a good time to read what he had to say.

_Kensi,_

_Hey, by now you know I resigned. Well, no offence partner, but I just couldn't hack it; I couldn't be one of you guys. I couldn't be a good cop, a good lawyer, or a good son. I fail at everything I try; everything I touch._

_Kens, don't worry about me, I feel much better now._

_MD_

Crumpling up the piece of paper, she tossed it across the car, crying out as she slammed her hands against the steering wheel.

When Deeks regained consciousness again, it was without the anger he felt the first time. Instead every muscle in his body rippled with the after- effects of the electrocution. His muscles twitching with such force, he was pulled from the darkness. A whimper slid out before he could stop it.

The pain in his wrists and shoulders were the first thing he noticed outside of the twitching. Slowly opening his eyes, he found he was no longer in the small room but, rather, a much larger, white-tiled room. No windows graced the walls. The small white tiles were stained green half way up the wall, and smelled strongly of mold. His feet dragged across the cold floor. He hissed at the pain caused by his movement in looking around; his arms supported his weight while his body swayed slightly, turning in half circles. He knew he needed to take the weight off his arms, but, at that precise moment, his legs decided to ignore his commands to stand.

Sweat dripping into his eyes; his body began to shake from the strain on his shoulders. Clenching his jaw, he stared at his legs. His right leg shook slowly as it dragged across the floor. He was too high to place his foot firmly on the floor, but he was able to reach it with the tips of his toes. As his right leg snapped into place, some semblance of balance returned, at least until his body shifted and he lost control, crying out as he began to twist again. His shoulders strained, threatening to pop out of their sockets.

Panting, he concentrated again. His right leg moved, and he let out a giddy laugh when his left foot twitched, finally obeying his urgent need for balance. Now that he could control his balance, the strain on his shoulders eased. He concentrated on keeping his weight properly distributed so as not to start twisting again.

His delicate balancing act was lost when his concentration was broken by a small man pushing a squeaking cart into the room, the metal clanking on the swinging door. The noise made Deeks quickly glance up, the sudden movement causing his left foot to slip out. The pain was excruciating. Trying to bite back a scream, it still slipped past his dry, cracked lips.

The man stopped; his blue eyes appeared even larger as the thick glasses magnified them. He looked genuinely surprised by Deeks being awake. He muttered softly to himself, shaking his bald head. He walked past Deeks quickly, his feet shuffling until Deeks was sure he was gone. That thought was quickly dispelled when chains rattled behind him, lowering him just enough to stand, but not enough to let his body relax from the strain.

"Told them, not to bring you here," the man softly remarked when he walked past. "Needed rest you did, treatment could wait."

He returned to his cart, pushing it closer to Deeks. A small array of syringes were laid out, together with two small vials; one blue, the other clear. The man clicked his tongue, touching each object several times before he stopped.

"Almost ready, almost time." He looked up at Deeks, pushing his glasses up his nose, repeating the same movement several times before he relaxed. "New subject, promising."

His hands touched Deeks' stomach; the man's fingers were warm. Again, the man touched the same spot repeatedly. Deeks stared in amusement; the guy wasn't all there upstairs. And with his OCD, thick glasses, and the heavy plastic apron he wore, Deeks thought he could pass as a mad scientist. He smirked at that thought.

"Hey," Deeks found his voice, making the man jump back looking horrified; shaking his head the man covered his ears.

"Nope, I won't listen to them." He stepped back, not looking at Deeks. "The words lie."

The man backed out of the room, the door clicking as the latch engaged. Deeks stared at the door, confused by the strange man's actions, then moved his gaze to the cart he had left behind. If he could pull it closer, maybe there was something there he could use.

However, the doors snapped open again, and the mad scientist walked back in. He looked almost mischievous; his thin, cracked lips curled up in a tight smile. Following behind him were the Rat and a tall woman.

The woman's sharp, exotic features made Deeks stare a little longer than he should have. Her skirt was just past the top of her thigh, exposing long muscular legs. Her silk blouse open just enough to show off the black lace of her bra. The way she stood, he knew she was also very dangerous and would not hesitate to crush anyone who got in her way. Her ruby red lips curled up, knowing that he was admiring her beauty. She purposely tossed her thick black hair to the side, her pale blue eyes taking him in completely. Realizing what he was doing, he broke his stare. She was dangerous, and he was her prisoner.

"Are you ready, Simon?" She spoke with a thick European accent, and Deeks concluded that English was not her native tongue.

The mad scientist shook his head. Returning to his cart, he kept his head down. Filling two syringes, he began clicking his tongue again, then placed the syringes down as his OCD kicked in.

The Rat looked at the mad scientist, annoyed by his actions, while the woman moved closer to Deeks. Her stiletto heels clicking against the tiles.

"Martin Deeks," she ran her manicured nails slowly over his ribs.

He tried to stepped back, instead it caused strain on his arms he was defenceless against her touch. "Yeah," he croaked out.

Leaning in, whispering in his ear, she breathed, "I know everything about you, Mr. Deeks." She smelled strongly of Chanel, cigars, and another underlying scent he couldn't quite identify. Her breath warmed his neck, making him shiver; he couldn't see her smile, but he knew she was enjoying this. "I have watched you for a long time, Mr. Deeks, and I went to great lengths to obtain you."

She stepped back, her tongue smoothed over her lips, as her hands dropped to her hips. "An only child, mother died of cancer. Your father dead, but not before you shot him. Being bounced around from home to home. No one wanting you, no one caring for you. Studied law, but you didn't fit in there either, not wanted. LAPD took you for a bit, but they soon tossed you aside like a piece of trash. But you found something with NCIS, didn't you?" She stuck out her bottom lip, pouting.

"Then you know they will find me." The words burned in his throat.

She sucked her lip back in. Looking around, her lips curled up into a smile, showing her perfectly white teeth. Her laughter filled the room, and, just as quick as it started it stopped. Her face went rigid, "No, no one is coming for you. Just like everyone else in your life has done, you have been left for the wolves."

Deeks didn't feel too good at that moment. The mad scientist looked at the woman, and she nodded; he picked up an alcohol swab and moved toward Deeks.

"What are you doing?"

"Drugs," she tucked her hand under her chin, enjoying things far more than he was. "You see, that little cocktail will help you through all this. You survive, you can stay; I'll give comforts, freedoms. You fail . . . Well, I guess things won't be so pleasant."

Simon rubbed Deeks' thigh with the alcohol swab. Sticking his tongue out, he jammed the needle into the muscle of Deeks' leg. Deeks bit his cheek, trying not to let his fear of needles show. The injection point began to burn; he swore he could feel the drugs crawl up his leg. The burning sensation crept up his chest, then moved into his lungs, restricting his breathing. His heart felt like it was ready to explode from his chest. His mouth opened in shock, but instead of the scream he wanted to force out, his throat constricted, blocking any sound. His body shook, but it didn't hurt. In fact, nothing hurt anymore. A renewed strength washed over him. He stared at the woman; she flicked her nails, unimpressed.

He didn't feel the second needle enter; he still struggled to figure out what was happening with his body. He felt renewed strength, but his mind quickly filled with a haze. He lost any coherent train of thought; he was lost and he couldn't help himself.

He could hear their voices, but the words made no sense to him. Their images blurred, quickly coming into focus only to fade away again. He gave his head a shake.

"I think he is ready," the female spoke, her words blending together. "Prep him. We'll start easy, and see how he copes."

He could feel his body relax as his arms were released and dropped to his side. His legs throbbed, wanting to move. A face came into view, a long face. He didn't know why, but he filled with rage. His body wanted to tear the man apart. His body tensed. As he pulled against his bonds, the man stepped out of his view. But it didn't matter, he knew he was there. His muscles tightened. He wanted vengeance. Stepping forward, he turned. The room began to come back into focus. He moved until he could clearly make out the Rat standing nearby, his hand raised, holding a small black box.

At that moment, he didn't care. He wanted to feel the Rat's neck snap in his hands. He took a step toward. The rat dropped his thumb down. Deeks ignored the muscle spasms from the electricity. His neck jerked and tightened. He grunted in protest, but he still pushed forward. The Rat looked terrified and rightfully so. Lunging forward, Deeks grabbed the Rat's arm and, with a quick spin, he drew it over his shoulder. Digging his fingers into the soft flesh of the wrist, he pulled down. The black box fell to the floor. Kicking the box away with his feet, the pain subsided. The man's arm strained. His cries made Deeks smile. Applying more pressure, Deeks heard the distinct sound of bones breaking. The man roared in pain, and Deeks loved it. He snapped his head back, silencing the cries. The man dropped to the floor. Deeks turned, staring at the body. The man had hurt him, had taken him and drugged him. He didn't deserve to breathe the same air. Deeks glared; his fingers slipping around the Rat's thin neck. He squeezed. He didn't care an ounce about the life he was slowly taking away.

The Rat fought against him. His good arm scratched at Deeks' chest and arms. Deeks stuck his knee into the Rat's chest, holding him down.

The rage began to focus Deeks' thoughts on the pains and betrayals of his past. He heard the rage whispering to him: "Take back what they all took from you, Marty. Your father, the teachers, all those police officers, your so-called friends. Take back what belongs to you."

His panting breaths came heavily as he looked into the terrified eyes staring back at him. The Rat's face reddened as he struggled to breathe. Something snapped in the back of Deeks' mind. He wasn't a murderer; he wasn't a monster. His hands snapped back, releasing the throat they'd been coiled around. The Rat gasped for air, holding his neck. Deeks shook, staring at his hands. What was wrong with him?

"Damn it," the woman barked. "Simon, it's not strong enough. His emotions are getting in the way. Strengthen the dose; the fight is tomorrow, and you'd better have him ready." The female sounded agitated.

Deeks couldn't stop staring at his hands.

Hearing a voice say, "You son of a bitch," made him look up. The Rat stood in front of him, holding his broken arm protectively against his chest.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: thanks again to everyone that has stuck with me so far. And thanks again to my wicked beta Cat4444. Always pushing me to go further and further. **

**Chapter 3**

"Richard, that is enough!" the Lady yelled, "It's your own stupidity that got you hurt. Don't think for one moment that I am not aware of your little show today with the shock collar. Now I suggest you go get patched up, or you can sit in the hole."

The Rat looked away, his face red. He was fighting his own need to ignore his boss' orders and lay a beat-down on Deeks. Instead, he turned and stormed out, grumbling under his breath.

Deeks felt a little triumph at The Rat's departure and bowed his head. Still feeling groggy from the drugs that continued to flow through his veins, he was sure he could hold his own against the Rat. But right now, he didn't want to fight he needed to get out. He could feel his mind clear; the dug began to wear off. Steadying his ragged breathing, he had to hold on and believe that it wouldn't be long before the rest of his teammates found him. He slowly lifted his head to look at the woman and Simon as they spoke quietly to each other. The woman had told him no one would come looking for him; she said they had left him to the wolves. He began wondering what would happen if no one came for him? If he truly was alone, he would have to get out of there on his own.

Slowly he tucked his feet under his body, cautiously watching his two captors, neither of whom were currently paying any attention to him. A smile crossed his lips, their first mistake. Standing, he moved three steps to his right; put him within arm's reach of Simon. Already formulating a plan, he spied the syringes on the cart. His hand wrapped around an empty one. Turning, he grabbed the Mad Scientist, pressing the needle against his neck.

"Let me go, and I won't kill him," Deeks growled. The little man thrashed against Deeks, crying out as if he had already injected air into his bloodstream. Deeks was taken aback by the man's response.

"Madame!" Simon finally choked out, his short arms reaching toward her.

Deeks expected her to fold, to hand him his freedom on a silver plate. Instead, she stared, rolling her eyes, "Go ahead." Her voice cold, Simon quickly went silent in Deeks' arms. "I have several more that can take his place. Kill him."

Deeks' stomach dropped. She was a lot more dangerous than he thought. Deciding the man in his arms might provide a better chance of escape, he focussed his pleas on him. "Listen, get me out of here and you live," he whispered, never taking his eyes off the woman.

Simon shook his head. "Lies. They speak lies. Madame will protect me."

"Come on, Buddy, let's get out of here."

"NO!" Simon screamed. His hands grabbed Deeks', and his chubby fingers pressed down on Deeks' thumb over the plunger. "I love my Madame, and I will die."

Deeks had seriously underestimated the man and struggled to keep him from killing himself. The Lady stood shaking her head. A slight smile creasing her lips; enjoying the sight of Deeks' failed attempt to escape.

In order to pull the syringe away, Deeks had to let go of Simon, who fell to the floor and crawled away from him to the Lady's feet. Deeks stood still for a moment, feeling very foolish, then, shrugging his shoulders, he threw the syringe at her, hoping at least to poke her with it and distract her while he made his escape. Turning, he ran for the doors, and was surprised when they easily swung open, causing him to stumble into the corridor and slam into the wall.

Taking a moment to regain his balance, he looked back, but neither the woman nor Simon followed, and he couldn't help but smile. Looking down the corridor, he noted a silver door a few feet away. He pushed off the wall and headed toward it. Taking his time, he slowly and cautiously pushed the door open.

After a quick look around the room, he saw it was empty and no one waited for him. He glanced back again; still no one chased him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, either his captors were the dumbest kidnappers in the history of bad guys or he was truly screwed and they were playing with him.

Ignoring the thoughts running through his head, he knew he needed to get out of there; he had to find a phone, a computer, anything he could use to get help. He walked around the room looking for a weapon, but other than a few empty boxes, he found nothing. He finally gave up on his search, knowing he had to move on.

Entering a dimly lit hallway, he found another door. Pushing on it, it quickly became apparent that it was locked. He groaned and moved on; two more doors, both locked. Beginning to panic, he thought, "Maybe that's why they haven't come after me. They know there's was no way out." He began to move faster, pushing on locked door after locked door, cursing louder with each door that refused to open. The knot in the pit of his stomach grew, and the more he doubted himself, the more he began to slow.

In his desperate search for a way out, he nearly missed the elevator doors. He stopped and stared at them. "You've got to be kidding me," he muttered, his hand shaking as he reached for the call button. It lit up when he pressed it. Letting out a laugh, he waited for the doors to open.

When the doors slid open, he paused for a second. "What do you have to lose?" he said aloud. Stepping into the elevator, he turned and looked at the buttons. He pressed the one marked "Main floor," which lit up as the doors closed.

He looked around the small space; there was nowhere to hide if they were waiting for him. He glanced up; he'd seen plenty of movies where the hero pushed open the hatch and climbed onto the top of the car, only to drop down on the poor sucker who had to check the elevator. He moved to the corner and pressed on the ceiling, nothing. He continued to check, nothing budged, and he stared at the door. Tensing himself, he realized he had to do things the hard way.

The elevator chimed and the doors opened. He stared out at what used to be a hospital; the floor strewn with debris and glass. The main lobby windows were covered by wooden planks, letting little to no light shine through. He rolled his eyes, calling for help was out of the question. He had to get out of there first, and then get help. The place looked empty; no one appeared to be lying in wait for him. He shook his head, stepping out into the hallway. "Hey!" a muffled voice sounded, making him look to his left.

The man wore a flak suit, his face completely covered, black goggles hiding his eyes. He held an assault rifle, which he aimed straight at Deeks' head.

"Oh, Hell!" Deeks groaned. Clenching his fist, he turned to flee, but before he could run, something heavy came down on the back of his head. His knees buckled, dropping him to the floor. Bright lights sparked in his vision. The blow wasn't hard enough to knock him out, but it was enough to leave him stunned. Something clicked onto his collar, followed by another click. He was pulled to his feet by his neck. At first he didn't want to move, but a quick jab in the side made him take a step. Glass cut into the soles of his feet and brought him out of his daze. The two guards held metal rods attached to his collar, using them to force him away from the elevator.

"They always take the elevator." The man on his left shook his head as he spoke. They moved through the lobby of the hospital, drawing Deeks further from the front of the building toward the back. He tried once to fight of the men walking him to the back of the building. He felt like a wild animal or at least they treated him like that. The familiar sensation of electricity was his bitter reminder that he was not going to get away from them.

"When will they learn not to run?" the other man chimed in. "Heard he's the replacement for Shane."

"Really? Doesn't look like much." Stopping, the first man pressed the call button on another elevator.

"Oh, come on, Brian. You thought Christopher wasn't going to last a week, and look how wrong you were."

"Oh, shut up. You don't need to remind me. So what do you think Madame's going to do with him?"

"What she always does. He needs to be reminded that he'll never get out of here." The man spoke lowly; the metal doors opened and they pushed Deeks inside, then unlatched the metal rods from his collar.

"Too bad. I heard he was taking on Chucky tomorrow."

"Damn! That really would have been something to watch." The other guy stared at Deeks, then stepped back and closed the door.

The instant the door closed Deeks dropped to his knees, emotions flooding him. He had been so close, and it was just a game to these people. He mentally berated himself as he realized he shouldn't have taken the elevator, he should have kept looking for another way out. Now the question was what they would do to him.

A hissing sound made him look up. A thin white mist began to fill the car. Sliding backward, he covered his mouth and nose with his hand. The mist filled the space and continued to flow, Deeks tried not to inhale, but the need to breathe forced him to take a breath. Coughing, he fell over, his head spun, his body jerked until he finally gave in to the pull of the darkness.

Waking to pain was not welcome, and the steady throb of a headache was quickly followed by pain in his sides. He coughed painfully; thick liquid tasting like copper came up with the cough. His eyes opened; again he hung in the white-tiled room. Spitting out the liquid, he looked around. He wasn't alone and found himself staring into the angry hazel eyes of a bald man with tattoos covering his upper body and arms.

The man snarled and continued to use Deeks' body as a human punching bag. Deeks bit back his cries, his chest burning with each new punch. His arms took most of the strain while his body twisted. The strain on his upper body was too much for him; finally he couldn't stop his cries of pain.

"Christopher, that's enough," the Madame softly spoke. She approached the fighter and licked her lips as her hands grazed his shoulder.

Turning her attention to Deeks, she said, "I offered you a place . . . a home, and you ran."

"You offered me forced compliance. I will not fight for you; I will not be your lab rat; I will not be a prisoner." He spat at her.

Christopher snarled giving him a solid backhand. Deeks groaned. His left arm was dangerously close to slipping out of its socket. The Madame shook her head as Deeks shook off the dull pain coursing through his body and the pounding ache in his head.

"Oh, Martin, Martin, Martin, Martin." She shook her head, "Why can't you see? Are you that blind? The world gave up on you long ago. You don't have a place with them. You don't have anyone, and no one will ever want such a damaged package. But I can give you that here, I'm trying to show you that, regardless of your past, regardless of everything else, you can and will be accepted here."

"I have a place. I have friends, and I don't need you or your sadistic ways," he barked.

Christopher stepped forward, ready to hit him again. The Madame put her hand on his chest and stopping him.

"I can make you do what I want. I can make you fight for me, and I can do anything I want to you." She stepped forward. Her manicured nails dug into his flesh when she grasped his chin to get a clear look into his eyes. He glanced at her as frustration began to show on her features. She needed him to submit, she need to feel control over him. He grinned he wasn't going to make this easy. She snarled pushing him away.

Now she was irate. "I will make you forget everything, pump you so full of drugs you won't even remember your name. I will break you down and build you up to be everything I want you to be. And you will be incapable of stopping me."

Deeks stared at her, "You can try, but I won't break."

She searched his eyes, her body relaxed. A devilish smile crossed over her lips. "Alright, I'll play. I like a good challenge. Christopher, take him to the hole; let's see how long he lasts."

Christopher grunted he grabbed at the chains around his wrist; he pulled out a small pin that kept him hanging up right. A smile crossed Christopher's face, he knew what was coming stepping back he let Deeks drop painfully to the floor. He didn't save any kindness; grabbing Deeks by the hair, he pulled him to a standing position.

Deeks hissed as his knees gave out and he dropped back to the floor, leaving Christopher with a handful of his hair. The man rolled his eyes, and taking Deeks left arm, he lifted him. Half dragging and half pushing Deeks, they exited the white-tiled room.

Christopher manoeuvered Deeks down several similar looking hallways lined with heavy metal doors. As they moved further along, Deeks wondered how many people the woman kept there. And how big operation she was running. Finally they stopped at one of three doors that were half the size of the other doors.

"Treatment." The shaken voice of Simon made Deeks swallow hard. He looked at the mad scientist, who seemed terrified of him. Christopher didn't say anything, although his grip tightened on Deeks' arm. "Make you hurt like me." Simon pulled out a syringe filled with blue liquid. The syringe had more of the liquid than the previous one, and Deeks concluded that couldn't be good.

Simon stepped forward, and with a smile on his face, plunged the needle into Deeks' neck. The burning sensation made Deeks gasp. It wasn't like before. It felt like his heart was going to explode; his breath ripped from his lungs. The hallway seemed to shift under his feet, and Simon's maniacal laughter echoing in his head was the last thing he could consciously hold on to.

TBC

**A/N: please fell free to review, still kind of new to this all but I would like to see what ya all think of it so far.**


	4. Chapter 4

**a/n sorry for the delay, I figure I'd let everyone enjoy the holidays. Thanks you for all the followers, reviews and everyone who is still with me. Also a special shout out to my beta cat4444, red marks and all. **

**Chapter 4**

Three days had passed and they still had no leads in the Redington case. Kensi sat at her desk looking over the endless interview files from the Redington case, in hope that they missed something. Each of the files sitting in front of her seemed more pointless than the last. The longer she read, the more the words seemed to flow together. She could feel a headache beginning to build. Glancing up, she stared at the empty desk of her partner and scowled at the thought she would never hear his quips again, she soon began to tap her pencil against the pile of paper.

She knew Hetty was already in the process of finding her a new partner, not that she wanted one. The men that came into her life left just as quickly as they arrived. She caught the tears that were on the edge of bursting out as she continued to stare at the empty chair, thinking that it wasn't fair. She began to mindlessly chew on her bottom lip. She hadn't told Deeks how much he meant to her. She never told any of the men in her life how much they meant to her, not her father, not Dom, and they all left one at a time. She liked having Deeks as a partner; she had grown dependent on him, on seeing him, on hearing him. She was sure he would never know, and she could never tell him.

"Kensi!" Callen called, breaking through her thoughts. His hand rested on her wrist, and she blinked away the tears and morose thoughts, looking up into the green eyes of the senior agent. "Hey, you okay?"

"Fine." She quickly turned away from his gaze, grabbed another paper and began to scan the black writing, hoping he didn't notice she was losing her edge, although she knew it was pointless to pretend around him. His hand slipped off her wrist as he continued to stand at her desk, but he didn't move. She could feel his gaze on her and wanted to look up at him, but she couldn't.

"Hetty's looking for you." He sounded concerned, like he wanted to say more.

Kensi nodded and stood up. She didn't want him to see her like this. She was supposed to be strong. His hand caught her shoulder, and for a brief moment she shuddered. She wanted to hug him; she wanted to pretend everything she was feeling was going to stop, but most of all she wanted to forget about Martin Deeks. Instead, Callen turned her around, and the emotions that spilled from his features made her feel ten times worse. She had been so focussed on her own emotions, she forgot about everyone else. "It will get better, Kens, I promise." His voice was soft and weak. She smiled and clamped her hand over his. The awkward feeling was instant. Kensi tried to laugh it off as she stepped back from him.

Sam walked into the room at that precise moment and found himself staring at the two teammates. Looking between them, he could feel their nervous energy. "G, we're needed." He looked at Kensi, who looked relieved, and when she walked past him, she gave out a high-pitched laugh. He swore she gave him a '_Thank God, things were just getting weird_' look. Callen stared like the air had been ripped from his lungs. "What the hell was that?" Sam asked as he stepped closer to his partner, studying him.

Callen stood for a moment trying to find the words, "Not a clue."

Sam stared at him, not believing his partner. "Please tell me that wasn't you hitting on Kensi."

"No! Oh, God, no! She's like my sister. I was just trying to be a good team leader." The words came out too quickly, and by the look his partner gave him, Callen knew it was too late to take anything back. Instead of fighting the inevitable, he straightened his shoulders. "What's going on?"

"Boat house, we're meeting Petty Officer Lance Dubnyk. Drinking buddy might give us an insight on his civilian life." Sam wanted to hang on to the awkwardness of the whole situation. Instead he gave up, back to work.

Kensi could hear Sam's laughter as she walked away and couldn't help but smile. She had no romantic feelings for Callen. She knew he was just trying to be a good friend, or at least she hoped that was the case. She waited to hear the laughter stop before she turned back to look for Hetty and walked straight into Eric, whose fall to the floor was less than graceful. The tablet he held protectively in his hands also fell to the floor, its screen cracking. Kensi tried to reach for the broken tablet, but Eric bounced to his knees and grabbed it from her hand.

"You okay?" Kensi asked, a little surprised by his actions.

Eric looked at the tablet then to her. "Christ, Kensi, watch where you're going," he barked.

"Eric!" She stared at him. This wasn't the tech she knew.

Frowning, he looked away from her. "Sorry, Kensi," he apologized. Looking around sheepishly before straightening his glasses, he said, "Hey, can we meet up for drinks after work?"

"Um, I was thinking ice cream with Gerald tonight."

He stared at her confused by her choice of words. "If you have plans then don't worry about it." He began to walk away.

She grabbed him, "Eric, I don't have plans. What up?"

He relaxed just a bit, staring at her. She could tell he was hiding something, and it was taking everything he had not to spill his guts right there in the hallway. "I don't want to talk about it right now. Wait for me after work." He paused when he saw Nell walking toward them. "Yeah, Kensi, I heard Hetty was looking for you."

Kensi stared dumbfounded as Eric spun on his heels and quickly walked away. Nell Stopped mid-step, her head cocked as she watched Eric walk away from her. "Let me guess," Kensi said as she moved toward Nell, "Hetty's looking for me?"

"Um, yeah." Nell looked past her in the direction Eric had gone. "What were you and Eric talking about, if you don't mind me asking? He's been avoiding me for the last two days and, well, he's acting really weird. Every time I ask, he deflects."

"You know, I really don't know either." Kensi tried not to smile; she began to wonder if Eric was finally going to ask Nell out. And just needed some womanly advice. "I'll find him and talk with him, but right now I should find Hetty."

Kensi left Nell standing in the hallway looking lost and hurried to Hetty's office, hoping the Operations Manager would be there. The office sat empty, a full cup of tea steaming next to a growing pile of paper. Stepping back, she looked up at Ops wondering if Hetty would be there. Walking toward the stairs, she jumped when Hetty spoke. "Miss Blye, I would like you to meet Agent Tori Shepherd."

Kensi turned around slowly, trying to hide her frustration. Hetty knew that Kensi didn't want another partner, and she purposely sprung this on her so she wouldn't make a scene. Tori, who was a few inches taller than Kensi, with fiery red, short-cropped hair and green eyes, stood next to the Operations Manager and stared back. She didn't look like she wanted to be there any more than Kensi wanted her to be.

"Kensi Blye," she said as she reached out to shake her new partner's hand, her voice cold and uninviting. "Pleased."

"Ma'am." Tori reached out, her hand squeezed tightly for a second before she let go. Stepping back, she looked around. "I was briefed on your mission on my flight. Just point me to my desk, and I'll help look over the files."

"Well, then, I'll let you two be." Hetty smiled and walked away, her hands cupped behind her back and a smug look pasted on her face.

Walking into the bullpen, Kensi picked up a stack of files and walked to the empty desk. "Here you go." The files made a loud thud as Kensi dropped them onto the wood desk.

"Listen, Miss Blye, I get it. You don't want me here." Tori stepped up placing her hand on the stack of files. "You lost your partner and that hurts, but I will be your partner and, right now, I need to know that you will have my back when I need it."

"Of course, why would you ask something like that?" Kensi was taken aback by the woman's forcefulness. She hated the idea of a new partner, but she would never purposely endanger her. Tori shook her head and walked around the desk. Sitting down in the chair, she pulled out a picture. Handing it to Kensi, she smiled.

"She turns two next month, and I don't want her to lose her mother or him to lose his wife." Tori opened a file as Kensi looked at the two smiling faces in the picture. The little girl had red hair like her mother. The man was dressed in a Marine service uniform, smiling broadly as he held the girl in his arms.

Feeling a little childish at her reaction to being assigned a new partner, Kensi cleared her throat and asked, "You're a mom?"

"Yes ma'am." Tori glanced up from her folders, "and a fellow Marine."

"My Dad was a Marine." Kensi looked up from the picture she still held, she couldn't help showing her admiration.

"I know, and I am sorry for your loss." She smiled, "When I got pregnant with Sarah, I asked for desk job. Tristan is waiting to be reassigned to Camp Pendleton so they can be closer to me."

"Oh." Kensi handed back the picture and took her seat. She looked up, watching Tori move through the files. She looked up, watching Tori make her way through the files, writing notes on a small pad as she went, and continuing until she had fully reviewed each file before moving on to the next.

The day slipped away from the junior agent, she didn't even notice when Sam and Callen returned. Tori looked up from her work when their playful banter stopped. Kensi yawned and glanced at her watch, it was nearly five. Her eyes burned from the reading. Sam stood in front of Tori giving her a cold stare, while Callen had wandered off, probably to find Hetty.

Knowing that the last time a new member joined the team, Sam wasn't the nicest person, Kensi quickly stood up and tried to get his attention by saying, "Sam, this is Tori Shepherd." Sam ignored her.

Tori stared back, unfazed by the man standing in front of her. She stood up and offered him her hand. "Agent Sam Hanna, it's an honor and a pleasure to meet you."

Sam shook her hand as a large boyish smile broke across his face. "New girl's got some sense."

"Don't go stroking his ego, Shepherd," Callen called from Hetty's office, "He's like a wounded puppy, now he'll never leave you alone. Did you guys find anything else out about Petty Officer Redington?"

"Nothing," Kensi grumbled, flicking the papers on her desk. "How about you, Shepherd?"

Tori picked up her pad, flipping through a few pages of notes. "The guy lived alone, no family, no pets, and no major money coming in or going out. I got to looking at his autopsy photos, and those bruises look a lot like he fought back too. I don't know about you, but during an interrogation, the victim doesn't usually fight back."

"And how do you figure that, Mrs. Shepherd?" Hetty questioned as she walked from her office, Callen following closely behind. Everyone took interest in what the new team member had to say.

Tori didn't miss a beat, "Look at his ankles and wrists. Nothing there. No rope burns or lacerations. Nothing. The only noticeable bruising was around his neck. And look at his knuckles. I have been in a few fist fights myself and, well, the bruises and cuts along them show he connected with something solid a few times." She held the picture and looked around. Hetty reached forward and took the picture, shaking her head. Callen peered over her shoulder and smiled at Tori. She had seen something even the Operations Manager had missed. Tori quickly continued, "I noticed in the ME's report, there were several small injection marks noted around his thighs and arms. The ME said the incisions were up to a month old, and suggested possible drug use, but in the entire time Redington was enlisted, he always had a clean record. His last blood tests came up negative for drug use. He was reported missing two weeks ago, so there is a pretty large hole in the ME's report, or Redington's commanding officer is hiding something."

Hetty looked at Callen, "Mr. Callen, I think Mrs. Shepherd has stumbled onto something."

"I think she has." Callen looked at Kensi, "Maybe it's time you two go back and visit Officer Verbeek and see if he forgot something. I'll check into the ME's report to see if anything else doesn't match up. Talk about a new set of eyes."

Kensi shook her head grabbing her jacket, "I'll drive."

**TBC**

**a/n Please feel free to let me know what your thinking and feeling where I'm taking it. And I am sorry if I'm doing everyting wrong I'm still new at this and not sure on all the educate to all this yet. But still liking all you readers does a heart good. **


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Thanks for everyone who has followed and reviewed. And thanks so much Cat4444 the red marks just make me work harder.**

Animal I have become 5

It felt good to feel the sun once again as it beat down on his chilled skin. Stretching his tired body, he settled deeper into the warm sand. Tucking his hands behind his head, he took a deep, relaxing breath and let the ocean sounds and smells relax him even more. Ever since he was little, there had always been something about the ocean that made him feel better. He could lie there forever and just let the world slip away.

"Marty," Kensi's soft voice called to him, her warm breath tickling his neck. Wrinkling his nose, he smiled. A hand traced across his chest, slowly moving upward to caress his chin, slender fingers brushing through the stubble.

"Hey," his voice croaked. Rolling his head to his [left/right], he slowly opened his eyes, "What took you so long?"

Kensi lay next to him, a small black bikini covering her body, which was wrapped around his. Reaching for her, his fingers played with the strap around her neck. She smiled and laughed softly. Running her fingers over his, she slowly picked up his hand and gently kissed his palm. He shivered but never broke his gaze. She laughed, letting his hand drop back to the sand. Sitting up slightly, she propped her head on one hand and with her free hand traced patterns over his chest.

"I've been busy, Marty." Licking her lips, she sucked in the lower left corner. "We have been looking; you're a hard man to find, you know."

"I know." Running his fingers through her hair, he tried not to smile when she nuzzled his hand with her cheek. "I'm just getting tired, Kens."

"I know, baby, I know." Breaking the tender moment, her brown eyes shimmered with tears. "You need to hold on, we'll find you."

He tried to smile, he hated seeing her cry. His eyes began to well up with tears. Her hand caressed his cheek; her thumb carefully wiped away the tears. Kensi looked away from him briefly; looking back she appeared worried. Pulling him up into a sitting position, she held his arms tightly, her fingers digging into his bare flesh. "Marty, I need you to fight. Don't let her in. Don't lose yourself. Please wait for me; I can't let you face the dark alone."

Deeks began to shiver, the sun no longer warmed his skin, and the ocean was silent. Kensi shook her head, her face fading before him. Her lips moved as she tried to talk to him; he wanted to hear her voice; he needed to hear it. Reaching out, he tried to cup her face, feel her flesh on his, but before he could touch her, she faded completely away. "Kensi!" he yelled. "Kensi!" The sun shattered at his cries, golden pieces falling into the ocean where they were swallowed, the light dying, leaving him in darkness. His body began to shake uncontrollably. His chest stung as he tried to gulp down the icy air.

"Wake up!" A deep voice broke through the darkness; a heavy hand catching his cheek.

His eyes fluttered open. His tongue had swollen and stuck to the roof of his mouth. He couldn't remember the last time he drank water or ate food. His lips cracked, splitting open at the edges when he opened his mouth to let out a moan. He could vaguely recall waking up earlier in the so-called 'hole' disorientated, unable to move, and in complete darkness. It took all his abilities to determine he was strapped to a thin metal board that had been placed somewhere warm. Steam rose up throughout his prison, drenching his body in sweat. Wherever he was, he was laid at a slight angle, his sweat ran down his back soaking his hair and draining away. His perceptions quickly ran together, reality slipping from his consciousness until, finally, he was left on his beach with Kensi.

He let his eyes slide closed again; he liked the beach better. He'd rather spend time with Kensi there than deal with the reality of his situation. A hand grabbed his jaw, and cold water filled his mouth. He gagged and choked, trying to swallow every drop. He wasn't sure if it would be the last water he would have for a long time.

His restraints were removed as he was hauled upright and a voice said, "Come on, son, the Madame would like to see you."

"No!" Deeks groaned as a wave of coughing overtook him.

As his inflamed feet scraped against the floor, he cried out in pain. The bright lights of the hall burned his eyes. Tightly closing his eyes, he wished they had been considerate enough to take him out in the dark. The hands let go of him, dropping him to the floor. He lay on his stomach trying to control his breathing and his emotions until he could regain his vision. After several slow blinks, he found himself staring at a set of black high heels. He didn't need to look up at their owner to know who they belonged to.

"Martin, how do you feel?" the Madame asked, her voice making him sick to the stomach. "Ready to see things my way?"

"They will come for me," he moaned, finally raising his head but not without some difficulty. He needed to show her he was still in control.

The black heel pressed under his shoulder and with no effort she rolled him over onto his back. The Madame leaned over, her eyes staring at him, and he swore for a moment he saw the devil looking back at him.

"They will never come for you, Martin. Why are you still hanging onto that hope? You're pathetic." She laughed the last words. "Look at yourself; it's been three days and you're still here. A little birdie told me your replacement has already taken your empty space and is fitting in even better than you could ever imagine." Deeks shook his head; she was toying with him, trying to break him. She ran her finger across his brow, moving his sweaty hair out of his face. "You were born unwanted, lived unwanted, and you will die unwanted. Your friends, your so-called teammates, have moved on without you, and they're doing just fine."

"You're wrong," he said, pulling away from her touch.

"I could be," she conceded, clicking her tongue and leaning in closer. "But, if you did one small thing for me and won, then I could take you to them and let you see with your own eyes."

Deeks froze. The woman was out of her mind. He stared at her, the thought running through his mind: _'If I fight and win, I could get out of here. I could escape and be with my teammates; take her down. But she could be playing me. I know they're impossible to track, so she's lying to me.'_

"Go to hell!" he growled.

She scowled, pushing his face away from her. "Fine. Howard have Simon give him another dose. And Martin, you're a fool." She stood up, and he listened as her heals clicked and faded away.

He had relaxed slightly before a pudgy face came into his vision. He recognized the face from the first time he woke up here, he had been with The Rat. Howard smiled softly, his features mimicking sadness, and concern for him. Raising Deeks' head slightly, he pressed a bottle of water to Deeks' dried and cracked lips. Deeks gulped down the water, letting it soothe his dry throat.

"Slow down, son, you'll make yourself sick." Howard spoke softly pulling away the bottle. "I don't know why you fight the Madame."

Deeks looked at him. He wanted to yell at him that he was just as crazy and possibly blind. "You're kidding, right?"

The man bowed his head, offering the water again. "She helped all of us here; we all have a dark past. She offers us shelter, food, clothing, and money for honest work." Deeks choked on the water, and Howard pulled the bottle back. He cleaned off Deeks' face with the sleeve of his shirt.

"You kidnapped me, you're holding me against my will." Deeks forced out between coughs.

Howard shook his head, "We're just trying to help you. Once you let go of everything, you'll see."

Deeks stared at him; the man actually looked humble as he spoke. He believed what he was saying; he actually thought he was helping him. A nauseous feeling washed over him. Howard looked up as the sounds of a squeaky wheel filled the silence. "Simon, Madame wants him to have another dose. And can you give him something for the fever and infection? His feet are pretty bad."

"No, he hurt me, and he's a very bad man," Simon said in a quavering voice

"He was scared, Simon, just like you were, and just like I was." Harold spoke soothingly to the mad scientist as he moved closer. Simon's fingers felt ice cold as he touched Deeks' feet. The pain was instant and caused Deeks to Jerk. Simon jumped back terrified, holding the syringe like a knife, ready to stab him. Howard reached out taking hold of Simon's arm. "He's hurt, he won't hurt you Simon. You won't hurt Simon, will you?"

Deeks shook his head, still baffled by Howard. The guy's elevator didn't go to the top floor. Simon shook his head wildly. "Lies, they always lie."

It took a few more calm words and reassurance that Deeks would not try to hurt him before Simon finally relaxed enough to give Deeks a small white pill that he washed down with water Howard provided. Before Deeks could thank Simon, a Syringe was plunged into his arm. The euphoria was instant; his eyes rolled back into his head, letting him drift off back to his beach.

The water was much calmer now; the sun beat down on him as he walked along the beach, the sand sifting through his toes. He sighed, looking out at the calm waters. He took a slow step forward, letting his feet get wet. A couple more steps, he thought to himself, and the undertow would get him and drag him out to the dark depths below.

"Do you really think that's smart?" Callen asked as he stood next to him, staring out at the ocean and squinting against the bright sun as it beat down on them. His white shirt ruffled in the soft breeze, the cuffs of his pants rolled up so they wouldn't get wet as the water lapped at his feet. "Are you really going to give up that easily?"

"Well, not really," Deeks turned to look at the senior agent, then back out over the water, "but it's better than what's waiting for me."

Callen shook his head, "I always thought you to be smarter than that. Come on, we're out there, and here you are trying to give up and let go." He dropped his hand onto his shoulder. "You're a good man, Deeks; you just had a hard life, which is nothing to worry about."

Deeks shook his head as he spoke to Callen, "She wants me to fight, and she said she would let me out to see you guys if I won."

Callen rubbed his chin, listening carefully. "She could. She might. But you could also lose. I mean, it's been a few days, you're a wreak, you're sick, and I don't think you'd be up to it. Hell, you're talking to an imaginary friend. You know that, right?"

Chuckling, he said, "Yeah, I'm not that crazy." He reached over and playfully pushed Callen away, water splashing up, wetting his shorts. He groaned, shaking his head, "Still, I don't know why it's you and not Kens. I liked her a whole lot more than you. No offence."

"Hey, this is your hallucination not mine," he smirked, talking a step forward into the water, a surfboard in his arms, "Come on, let's catch a few. If you want, I can even wear a bikini."

"Oh, Hell no!" Deeks hefted the surfboard in his arms. He stepped forward, lying down on the board and paddling out into the water. They stopped after a while, and Callen sat up on his board. Kicking his legs in the water, he glanced around, leaning his head back and basking in the sun. Deeks stared at his friend, shaking his head and asked "What's up?"

"Just wondering. If you agreed to fight and you won by the grace of the gods, do you think you'd be able to break away long enough for us to find you?"

"I could try, that's if she's not lying to me." Deeks flicked water onto Callen's white shirt. The senior agent didn't move, he simply closed his eyes. "Do you think I should try?"

"I don't know, man. There is a risk, but you could die in that hole you're in, and we'd never find you." He turned, looking behind him, "Come on, the waves are coming. I think we can catch a few good ones before you wake up."

Deeks watched Callen paddle into the waves. For a guy that swore he'd never surfed a day in his life, he surfed like a pro. Deeks shook his head, of course he was a pro, and this was his hallucination. Deeks laughed out loud and decided that, even if it wasn't real, at least he'd have a good time with it all.

**A/N please feel free to leave a review.**


	6. Chapter 6

**a/n: thanks to everyone that has been following and staying with me and all the newbies I appreciate**** the support. Cat4444 as always you keep the creative juices flowing. **

**Chapter 6**

The last visit Kensi made to Officer Kevin Verbeek had been pleasant. Walking into his office, she quickly noticed him sitting at his desk, a thin layer of sweat beaded on his forehead. His uniform shirt was open and the white shirt underneath was also damp with sweat. His cheeks were reddened, his eyes bloodshot. His hair was messy on the right side. He smiled widely when Kensi and Tori entered his office, although he did not stand to greet them, instead motioning for them to sit.

"Agent Blye, if I remember correctly," he said in a distant voice, his eyes slowly moving past Kensi to Tori, "and a new partner. I'm sorry if I don't shake your hand."

Tori stared at him for a moment, "Sir, is everything alright?"

He laughed, slapping his hand down on his desk, "Well, aren't you a smart little thing."

Kensi felt uneasy as she glanced from Kevin back to her partner. Unconsciously she reached for her sidearm, and feeling the grip against her finger, she smiled uneasily. "We just need to talk to you about Petty Officer Redington."

He cocked his head; his eyes darting back and forth. "You already questioned me, Agent Blye. Am I to assume I am a person of interest?"

Tori stepped up taking the stare from her partner, "We have uncovered new facts, and we just want to check them out."

Kevin nodded his head, motioning them to the two chairs in front of his desk. As the two Agents sat down, he leaned over and pulled out a bottle of Bourbon and three glasses from a side drawer. "Can I interest you in a drink?"

"We're on the clock," Tori said, raising her hand; glancing sideways at Kensi.

"Shame," he simply replied filling his glass. He hissed as he swallowed the golden liquid in one shot then refilled the glass again. "I've been saving this for a special occasion, and I have a feeling this is just the right time. So, ladies, how can I help your investigation?"

"You told Agent Blye that Petty Officer Redington had been missing for two weeks?" Tori never broke her stare as she spoke. "But the Coroner's report . . . "

"Let me stop you right there," Kevin raised his hand; taking a sip of his drink he cleared his throat. "I lied, plain and simple. Shane hadn't been missing that long, he worked for me, and I knew where he was at all times."

"So why lie?" Kensi looked at him, upset at the information and that she didn't pick up on it right away.

"What I was doing was not really legal." He finished his second glass, and poured a new one.

"And what was that, Officer Verbeek?" Tori didn't seem at all phased by his admission.

Kevin lifted his glass, tipping it in her direction. He moved his gaze over to Kensi, who was carefully watching the man. "Agent Blye, you have been so very quiet. Cat got your tongue?"

"No, I'm just trying to figure you out."

"Not much to figure out, I am a talent scout. I find the talent, and I mark them for use. Shane had some raw talent." He finished another glass, setting it on his desk, then reached over to open a side drawer. He pulled out an envelope and placed it on his desk for both agents to see. He followed quickly by placing a 9mm gun on top. Tori tensed, Kensi stuck out her hand motioning her to relax. He had made no threat against them yet. Kensi hit her agent in distress pad on her cell, her finger rested over the button ready to tap it again. "I am good at my craft ladies; I have found quite a bit of talent. I got foolish when they took Shane." He lifted the gun, and, pointing it at Kensi, he slowly stood up. Kensi pressed the button one last time, knowing Ops would get her distress call and soon this would be over.

Kensi could feel sweat dripping down her neck, "Put the weapon down, Kevin, let's talk about this."

Kevin began to laugh, shaking his head; he made his way around the desk before sitting down on it. His hand never wavered, his laughter died out and he relaxed just enough to use the gun to scratch his temple. As Tori moved to reach for him, his focus snapped to her, his gun following his gaze. "No one likes a hero. Do you know what happens to heroes, young lady? They get others killed." He waved her back to her chair with the gun. "And I doubt either of you fine things remembered to wear your vests. I, on the other hand, came prepared."

"You don't have to do this, Kevin. Whatever happened, whatever is going to happen, we can offer you protection." Kensi glanced up at him, she could tell Tori was getting antsy and might do something overly foolish.

"Protection? Really? You don't even know what you're up against yet," he said, his voice raised. Standing up, he pointed the gun at Kensi and stepped forward until his leg was touching hers. "And you, sitting there offering me something so pointless as protection."

Kensi held her hands up, "Then tell me what happened so we can help you."

Kevin looked at her sideways, "I'm a dead man. How can you help a dead man?"

"Let us stop whoever did this, that's how." Tori spoke; she glanced at Kensi giving her a slight nod.

Kevin contemplated her offer, he stepped back, his shoulders hunched. His eyes teared up, and his hand shook. "She found me when I was twelve. My parents had died, and I was forced to live on the streets. She helped me and took care of me, kept me from harm. There were so many others like me. She loved us all. She gave me a new name, moved me here to America. I worked hard for her, I did things no person should ever do, but I did it for her." He lowered his hand, looking at Kensi. "I can't stop them.

"Shane was a message for me. I tried to stop, to stop her, and this is what happened. My friend was taken away. You must know how that feels, Agent Blye, Deeks never left you, he was taken . . ." Glass shattered behind him. He let out a grunt, his eyes rolling back into his head. His knees buckled as his body collapsed to the floor. Kensi ducked down out of reflex, glancing at the body that lay mere inches from her, blood pooling on the floor. Judging by the entry wound in the back of his head, she knew he wasn't going to be any more help. Her hand shook as she tried to dial Ops.

The door burst open and Sam and Callen barged in, completely unaware of what had just happened. Sam went to Tori, who slowly stood up, while Callen dropped down next to Kensi. She could tell he was talking to her, but she couldn't hear him. The pounding of her heart made that impossible. "I'm fine!" she said, probably a bit too loud.

She shivered. "Kens?" Callen's voice made her jump. She looked into his green eyes and, at that moment, she lost it. Shaking her head, she pushed past him; she had to get some air. Walking out of the room, she knew Tori could fill them in. She hurried to the main doors. Ignoring the rush of people, she stepped outside. Pressing against the cool wall, she stared up at the dark night sky. The thought of her partner in trouble burst past her emotional haze. Why hadn't she seen it until now? How could she have been so stupid? She thought about the letter and guessed he never wrote it. It had been another ruse. She wanted to scream; she wanted to find whoever had done this and make them pay. But most of all, she hated herself for believing so easily that Deeks wanted nothing to do with her or the others. She began to sob uncontrollably.

Sirens echoed in the distance, she heard the doors open. She knew it was Sam walking toward her. He was the only one who dared try to talk to her when she was on the emotional edge. Wiping her eyes, she turned away from him, trying to regain some composure. His hand dropped heavily on her shoulder, his voice was soothing, "We'll find him, Kens that I can promise you."

Kensi shook her head, blowing out a few staggered breaths. She turned; Sam looked terrified. She knew he was hiding something from her. His usual stone face seemed to be battling with his own emotions. He pulled her in for an unexpected hug. Kensi was lost by the display of emotion, but at the same time, she returned the hug, knowing Sam was probably just as upset as she was. It wasn't until she heard Callen clear his throat that she pulled away from Sam. She looked at her leader; his face looked aged and worried. She meekly looked away; he never cared to show his emotions to the rest of them. He nodded to Sam in silent thanks for being the emotional strength of the team.

"Hetty wants us to return to Ops. They have three days on us." He clenched his jaw. Kensi knew just as well as anyone else that he was going to make everyone pay for doing this to one of his own. Even if Deeks was the newest member, he still found a place with the team. She bit the corner of her cheek. "We have agents coming in to clean out Verbeek's office and residence."

Tori walked up to the trio and smiled a weak smile, "Let's bring him home."

Hetty stood in Ops, her face had paled just after she called for her team to come back. Eric sat frozen at his desk, staring blankly at the computer screen. Nell stood behind the Operations Manager, clutching her pad till her knuckles turned white. No one dared speak or breathe. Hetty stumbled back.

"Hetty!" Nell rushed forward, placing a hand on her shoulder.

The woman brushed her off, "I am alright, Miss Jones, please assist Mr. Beale. I want everything on Mr. Deeks. Find every trace of him, everything." She moved past Nell and walked out into the hall. Waiting for the door to close, she slumped over, placing her hand firmly on the wall to hold her up. Her other hand held her heart; she was not made for this anymore. She closed her eyes, falling back on her breathing techniques to control her ragged breath; these were her children, her responsibility. She watched them like a concerned mother. She cared for them and still she let him go, not thinking anything more about his leaving. She felt the tears sting her eyes. Pulling out her cell, she dialled a number she never wanted to call. The one favor she wanted to hold back for a rainy day. Taking another steadying breath, she stood straight. Now she needed his help more than ever.

"Ivan, its Herta, I'm calling in my favor."

**TBC, reviews are welcomed**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: sorry everyone for the delay, here is the newest chapter. Thanks everyone who have been following, reviewing and liking this story. And thanks cat4444.**

Chapter 7

Deeks sat on the beach watching the sun as it began to set. Callen was lying on his surfboard just out of arms reach, staring up into the darkening sky. Deeks couldn't remember when he had had as much fun in his own thoughts. He looked over at Callen, who seemed to be deep in thought. Maybe he should dream up Kensi for a bit. Callen let out a rattling cough; holding his chest, he wiped his mouth, his hand covered in blood.

"You okay?" Deeks asked, propping himself up. Callen looked a lot thinner and his golden tan had faded.

"You know, I've been thinking," he said in a strained voice. "Deeks, you're dying. You need to do something before we . . ." He began to cough harder, his frail body collapsing into the sand. Deeks was on his feet helping his friend. Blood stained the sand as Callen gasped for breath. "We're not going to make it."

"You will. Come on G. If I can hang on just a little longer, you'll find me. I know it." Deeks felt uneasy. His subconscious knew something was wrong.

Callen laughed, "You're really that brain dead, aren't you? Come on buddy, you're dying in this place. We're not coming. Stop relying on everyone else to get you out of here. Get some balls and man up. Take the offer. Get the hell out of here and find us."

Deeks shook his head, "I can hang in there."

Callen rolled his eyes and looked past Deeks.

"Deeks?" Kensi's voice quavered. Deeks turned as Callen melted into the sand. Kensi looked far worse than Callen; she took a staggering step, falling onto the sand. Her face looked hollow. Her appearance reminiscent of his mother when she died. Open sores covered her body.

He crawled to her, unable to stand anymore, and scooped her fragile body into his arms, holding her close to his chest. He couldn't feel her breath against his skin; he couldn't feel her heart beating. Tears rolled down his cheeks; she looked so peaceful in his arms. Running the back of his hand down her cheek, he felt sick. Everything began to spin, the beach swirling around him, the rich colors blending together, blurring and melding into a dull blackness. As it swirled in front of him, long black tentacles reached out for him. They burned as they ripped through his chest, and he cried out, tightening his grip on Kensi.

Deeks always thought it would be sunny when he died, and in his mind it was sunny most of the time. He had always heard that when the body dies, the spirit stands at the opening of a tunnel. At the end of the tunnel is a warm golden light, and waiting there to embrace the newly deceased are all the loved ones that have gone ahead. He fully expected to see the golden light, but, instead, the tunnel ended in blackness.

Light formed in the darkness surrounding him, his eyes fluttering open in response to the increasing brightness. A face began to take shape in the radiance, calling him by name. "Martin. Martin, can you hear me?" Behind the voice was the clinking of metal hitting metal and a smell like copper pennies soaking in Clorox.

Spikes of pain stabbed through his head and chest, and he realized that someone was shaking him. He wanted the shaking to stop, but the mask pressed over his face muffled his pleas. As he fought against the plastic mask, a tube connected to his arm slapped against a metal pole.

"Relax son," the face hovering over him said, taking hold of his arm and pressing it back down to his side.

In his confused state, Deeks didn't know who the face was, or where _he_ was. All he knew was the pressure and pain, as though he had been torn apart and put back together.

"Martin, take a deep breath. Come on, son, breathe."

He listened to the face; the air passing in and out of his lungs. The pain making the air rattle in his throat.

"That's it, son, slow and deep. Are you in pain?"

He tried to say 'Yes,' but the word dissolved in this mouth. His voice failing him, he instead nodded slightly.

"Alright, Simon, you can give him something for the pain."

A familiar face came into the light, large owl-like glasses covering his small face. He held a syringe filled with blue liquid, which he injected into the tube running into Deeks' arm. As the drug entered his body, Deeks could feel a warm ribbon twisting into his arm. The pain ebbed. The light dimmed. The darkness began to swallow him again, and all his exhausted brain could process was a feeling that he was forgetting something. The missing thought was an irritation at the back of his mind. The more he tried to concentrate on it, to recall it, the further the memory slipped from his grasp as consciousness fled from him.

The sound of footsteps woke him. He was annoyed that they kept waking him up when all he wanted to do was sleep. Without opening his eyes, he spoke, "I'm fine. I don't want anything to eat, and I don't need anything for the pain."

A sweet voice answered him from the side of his bed. "That's good, because I don't have either of those things."

His eyes shot open. The Madame sat on a stool; her black hair falling around her shoulders. Her manicured fingers pressed against her chin. Her lips parted as she smiled at him, and he cringed at her feral look. "It's good to see you awake, Martin," her voice hissed as her nails raked over his arm. He wished he wasn't tied down to the bed or he would give her a piece of her own medicine. "So, will you fight?"

Deeks wanted to say 'No.' He wanted to make sure she knew he would never be hers. Instead, he rolled his head away from her; he had learned that he had died in the hole, his heart stopped. He would have never realised if it wasn't for the many visits from his trusty nurse Harold, who made it a habit of keeping him company on his recovery and new imprisonment to the bed. Harold was quick to tell him it was Simon who found him during his routine drug injection. And if it wasn't for him Deeks would still be down there rotting. They brought him back to life and moved him into his new prison a small room no bigger than a prison cell, then pumped him full of fluids and drugs to strengthen his weakened body. And that is where he lay, staring at the yellow-stained tiles on the ceiling. He figured it had been at least a week since he woke in his new prison, and it made him come to the sad realization that he was truly alone in all this.

"I will." His voice came out flat and cold.

"Good, your first fight is tonight, a warm up for the show." She sounded too smug for his liking. The stool squealed as it scraped across the floor. "I will see you then."

Deeks turned to look at her, "Excuse me? I need time, I'm not ready."

"Not my problem," she snarled and slammed the door.

Deeks cried out, shaking against the restraints holding him down. She played him; he would never win, he was never getting out of there. Slamming his head against the pillow, he could feel the leather straps cut into his skin.

It felt good to have a bath; it had been a while since he was clean. A women dressed in white came to see him shortly after The Madame left, she was followed by two men who looked more like bouncers then anything. Is own personal guards, in a small way he felt a little special. He was released on his assurance that he would not hurt any of them. After his wrists were cleansed and wrapped in clean bandages, he was taken to a room with a shower. He didn't want anyone to wash him, and his protest was met with electricity running from the collar wrapped around his neck and through his entire body. He was scrubbed until he was sure his skin was being peeled off, and it really didn't help that the water was a touch too cold for him. Following the shower, he was taken back to his cell and quickly cuffed to an awaiting chair. Two Larger men stood at the door their faces blank watching him. A soft knock at the door reviled an older man holding a black bag. He shuffled in and began setting his tool out on the bed. Turning the old man held a pair of silver barber scissors. Despite his protests, the man proceeded to cut Deeks' hair close to his scalp so that it was short enough no one could grasp it. His beard was removed with a hot shave. The old barber patted his cheek with an aged hand when he was finished. Packing up his things, he shuffled out of the room, his personal guard detail left as well leaving Deeks alone.

"Holy crap," a soft female voice remarked, making him glance up from his the chair he was still cuffed too in shock. Leaning in the doorway stood a person he never thought he would ever see again. Tatiana smiled as she eyed him, her thumbs slipped into the pockets of her jeans. Her brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, her brown eyes gazing at him, watching the emotions ripple through him. Finally, a slight smile gracing her full lips, she said, "I heard you finally cracked. I had to see it for myself. I do have to say you weren't an easy mark. Made me work harder than I like."

"You work for them?" he finally found the words; he wanted to jump off the bed at her. Deeks did try; the pull of the cuffs made the motion short lived. "You!"

"Oh, come on, Marty, don't look so surprised." She tilted her head, showing no sign of emotion. "I did my job; I got paid pretty good for you."

"Shut up!" he yelled again, pulling against his restraints. She didn't flinch, just laughed at him. A sound he once found sexy, now made him sick. "Get out!"

"Hey, I lost a good friend because of your ass. I plan to make sure you suffer." Her upper lip curled in a sneer. "Did you know Eric is freaking out? He misses you so much."

"Bitch!" he yelled, jerking again. "You won't be talking like that for long."

"Yes, I will, and maybe I might mark Eric, see how long little tech boy lasts in the ring." She stepped forward, grabbing Deeks' face, her nails digging into his flesh. "Kevin was one of the best and, because of you, they killed him." Deeks cried out when she jammed the syringe into his leg. Depressing the plunger, she stepped back. "When you die tonight, I'm going to place your body right on their front doorstep." Kissing him roughly, she pushed him back into the bed, then walked out, closing the door behind her.

Deeks could feel the warmth move up his leg as the drugs flowed through his system and the room began to spin. His heart felt ready to rip from his chest, sweat dripped from his brow. He wasn't sure what she had injected him with, but the concern that he was going to die regardless was heavy in his thoughts.

When they came for him, he felt every touch, every motion, his skin overly sensitive. Their hands pulled at him, lifting him to his feet, no one noticing his distress. He tried to fight back but found his reactions slowed by the drug moving through his body. A foot to the gut dropped him, the pain washing over him so quickly.

Deeks head was lifted so he could see the yellow eyes of The Rat staring back at him. A thin smile crossed over his thin lips. He threw his head back down and shoved him against the wall. This made him realise they knew what was wrong with him, but didn't care. The Rat leaned over him, casted arm pressing against his throat. "You are going to die tonight," he viciously remarked. "Get him to the ring."

Deeks was half dragged and half pushed through hallways he'd never seen before, the glow of the luminescent lights burned his eyes. Voices and color blurred into a heavy grey haze. He felt as though he was falling—and he was. His face struck the cement hard, and his breath was knocked from his lungs at the impact. Rolling onto his back, he found himself lying at the bottom of a deep pit surrounded by chain-link fencing and barbed wire. Heavy flood lights shone down, illuminating the blood-stained walls and floor.

Deeks struggled to stand; slinking to the wall furthest away from the burning lights, he blinked to clear his vision. A single camera installed on a platform was directed down at him. Rubbing his eyes, he looked again. A camera. They were filming the fight. He heard his name being called. Turning toward the sound, he felt the movement of the air from the fist coming toward at his nose just before it hit.

**A/N: pls read and review. **


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: This chapter was a long time coming, sorry for keeping it for so long. I haven't forgot all my followers and reviewers, I have hit quite the block and I have been trying to push past it, trying to give my readers what they want. Thank you everyone for the support and for keeping this one alive. Again Cat4444 you have given me alot to ponder, but the red marks have just made me want to work harder. **

Chapter 8

No one really discussed the last week much, not that they wanted to. Deeks was gone; they had all failed him in some way. The worst part was that they knew better; they knew Deeks better. Hetty was quick to remind the group that the past was the past and all that mattered now was finding him. Nell and Eric couldn't find anything electronically to track down the missing liaison officer. Verbeek's house and office were dead ends. The only thing they had to go on was the envelope Kevin had left on his desk. Inside were twenty photos, twenty pictures of men and women. Each marked in black with a date, nothing more. Deeks' picture was among them, the date a blatant reminder of how badly they had failed him.

Kaleidoscope matched all of the faces to missing persons' files from all over North America and a few from Europe. All of the missing people had the same things in common: single, no family, all reports made several weeks to months after the dates on the photos. Eric said what everyone had been thinking, "They had no one to worry about them. No one batted an eye when they went missing. No one cared enough to look for them."

Callen was quick to reply, "They have someone now. They . . . he . . . has us."

Tension was thick in the Mission as the days passed. No one closer to any break, Director Vance was dangerously close to having them move on to more current cases. Hetty fought for them. She called in another favor, and Vance agreed to one more week. With news of the impending deadline things quickly turned darker.

"Sam!" Callen yelled following after the ex-Navy Seal. "Slow down!"

All eyes turned to the two men as they stood in the bullpen. Sam clutched his jacket in his hands, twisting the fabric. "No, G. I'm not slowing down. He's out there. How can you be alright with this?!"

"I'm not, but we need to keep our heads clear." Callen stepped nearer, closing the distance between them. "You can't just fly off the handle like this. Nell and Eric have been digging into Kevin's life. We will find something."

"I will not sit idly by; I will not have another situation like Dom's." He jerked away from Callen's hand, which had been resting on his forearm. "Look how that turned out G. Where's Dom now? That's right, he's . . ."

"Enough!" Kensi yelled from her desk, her cheeks bright red. Her own emotions struggling to break past the wall she had put up.

A whistle made them all glance up at Eric; he stood at the railing staring down at them. "We found something."

For a second no one moved, their collective breaths held tight. Kensi moved first, clearing the stairs two steps at a time. Sam threw his jacket on his chair. Ignoring Callen, he followed after her.

Eric stood, tapping his fingers against his notepad, looking as though he had just found the motherlode. Everyone took their respective spots so that they all could see Eric.

"Alright, we found a holding company. Actually, Nell found it: J Dawn Holding from Georgia. It owns several properties, mostly industrial, a few residential."

"Point?" Sam stepped forward, causing Eric to step back.

"Sam!" Callen put his hand out, "Eric what does this have to do with the case?"

"Everything," Nell chirped from behind her computer screen. She glanced at Eric, giving him a momentary escape. "It took some digging, but this holding company has its mark in most of Kevin's financial life. We also found that it owns at least one property in each city the other nineteen people went missing from. It also has a warehouse in Los Angeles."

Callen pushed off the balls of his feet. "Already done," Eric spoke quickly. "Address downloaded to your smart phones. Hetty has a tactical team ready and waiting for you."

Kensi felt her heart in her throat; she wanted to kiss the Tech standing in front of them. Instead she moved to the door. Her phone vibrated as she climbed into her vehicle. Tori slipped into the passenger side. Sam's Charger purred to life and roared down the street. Kensi backed her vehicle out. She was going to get Deeks back. She could feel it.

* * *

At least three punches and a kick to his midsection left Deeks gasping for breath and confused. He needed to fight back; he _had_ to fight back. Tatiana's threat rang in his ears: '_You're going to die tonight_.' A boot caught his temple, spinning him around. His vision blurred and his stomach began to churn as his head bounced off the concrete. A heavy body landed on him, a knee, possibly an elbow, drove into his already aching ribs. He could feel the thick, heavy breath of his attacker against his face, spittle dripping onto his cheek. A hand covered the left side of the face holding him still, while another hit his right side. Deek's attacker switched his attack, hitting the left side. Repeating the blows keeping him off balance

His head exploded with the pain, the vision in his right eye blurred further before fading completely. Tears filled his eyes when his nose broke. His jaw cracked, straining under the vicious blows. Blood ran down from his nose filling his mouth. His thoughts already clouded by the drug, his body began to relax. Something broke in the back of his mind. Kensi's voice screamed as she shook his body, '_You get up Marty Deeks, you get up, and you fight for your life!_'

He spluttered, pushing out a much-needed exhalation. Blood splattered against the face of his attacker, causing him to stop and lean backward. Deeks found the strength to lay his hands on his attacker's chest and push him off. He kicked at the blur; his foot striking something solid. He could hear curses, and, though garbled, it sounded like Deeks had broken his opponent's nose.

Deeks rolled onto his stomach, pulling himself away from his foe. Hands grabbed his ankles, not giving him the chance to get too far. He was flipped onto his back, but he didn't stop, instead he struggled to break free. He almost had his left foot free, at least until something crashed down on his right foot. Deeks cried out at the sudden pain, his body dropped back to the floor and lay motionless.

_"What the Hell, Deeks?!" Sam came out of nowhere, grabbing Deeks' shirt collar and gave him a shake. "I know you are better than this! I know I trained you better than this!" _

"Sam, leave me alone," Deeks hissed through clenched lips. Not only was he going to die, but now he had Sam riding him.

_"No, I won't leave your sorry ass. If anyone is going to kick your ass, it's going to be me." He shook him again, this time giving his cheek a slap. "Ain't no one but me gets to manhandle you. Now come on. This guy's a punk. He's all strung out. You can take him. I could take him. Kensi could do it with her eyes closed. Get up and fight!"_

Deeks growled. His eye opened, and he found himself staring at the bald head of the man from the room where he had been hung and beaten. His name didn't matter; Deeks was going to win this.

Deeks put everything behind the head butt. If the man's nose wasn't broken before, it was now. Deeks slumped when the hands let go of him. His breath came quick and short. His right ankle dragged behind him when he moved. He couldn't feel it anyway as the numbness took over, coupled with an overwhelming desire to live.

He limped toward the man before him and, grabbing his throat, drove his fist against his face. As he felt the bone crack and the flesh give way under his knuckles, a smile broke across his face.

He pulled his fist back again for another shot. The man tried to block him, but Deeks used his body to push against him and force him to the concrete floor. His fist never stopped moving. If it was flesh, he drove his fist into it.

Deeks pulled himself up the man's body so that he could hover over his face like the man had done to him earlier. His blood dripped down from his own cuts on his face, it blended with the man's own blooded face. Deeks simply laughed hysterically.

He found the situation to be extremely funny. He was destined to die tonight, and now he had the upper hand. He had his way out. His hands slipped around the bald head, he then raised it and slammed it down onto the floor as his laughter continued to bubble out.

He raised the man's head again, slamming it down harder. The man beneath him went lax, his hands no longer striking Deeks' sides in an effort to break free. He ceased fighting back, but Deeks was far from done.

If the Madame wanted entertainment, he would give it to her. He struck the head against the floor once more as someone grabbed his shoulder in an attempt to pull him back. A bright light shone in his face. He laughed, pushing the hands away. His own hands were soaked in blood, which made it hard to lift the head, but he really didn't care. He won. He was going to go home.

The distinct sound of a gun cocking and the feel of the barrel pressing against his temple made Deeks turn his head. Now the barrel of the gun pressed against his forehead. His lips curled up into a grin, as he let the bloody head slip from his hands. He was pulled off the body, still laughing. He couldn't stop himself. Only when the butt of a rifle came down on his head did the laughter stop.

**Please review **


	9. Chapter 9

**a/n: thank you everyone that has continued to follow me and put up with me and my late posts. A special shout out to densireader and ncislaaddict for pushing me and not letting me slow down. And as always cat4444 for your advice has kept my imagination running wild. So for everyone here it is, delayed but here. **

**Chapter 9**

"Christ, Dixon, did you have to hit him so hard?" the agent said as he pulled off his helmet and knelt down to check the pulse of the man lying at his feet. He looked at his partner, who lowered his riot rifle to his side and shrugged.

"Come on, Grimes, the guy was off his rocker. He could have compromised the whole sting." Dixon turned, looking at the security door in front of him. "Guy was going to mow through you to get in there."

"Don't matter. You heard Agent Callen. We need to restrain." He tapped his ear, "Control, this is Delta team. We have one suspect in custody."

"Delta team, copy that," Eric's voice came over his ear piece. "Location?"

"South east quadrant. We'll hold location. We will need medical." He watch Dixon look at the door, "Control, we have a security door that was not on the plans."

"Copy, Delta team, we're sending Alpha team to your location," Nell's voice responded this time. The man nodded as Nell continued, "Do you have eyes on the door?"

"Yes, Ma'am, we have eyes," he replied as he stood up.

Nell typed on her keyboard as she looked up at the screen; Eric was on his radio talking with Callen and Sam, guiding them to Delta team. Hetty moved in, also interested in what the man found. The door was high tech. A keypad was located to the right of the handle. Looking back to her keyboard and typing in a few more queries, Nell hissed as she again looked up at the screen.

"What is it?" Hetty asked as she looked at her.

"That's an SDC 918 Series lock. One code. We mess this up, the locking mechanism fries. And that door is a safe-style door. We can cut it, but I don't know how long it might take. It could be a few hours or a few days, and whatever is behind that door could be gone or destroyed before we can even get in." She didn't look at Hetty's scowl; even Eric looked away as he shook his head.

"Callen, we have a door and one shot to get in. See if you can get the suspect to talk." Eric said, tapping his pen against his hand.

"We'll see what we've got," he tapped Sam's arm, who nodded as they moved through the aisle of boxes. They reached the location Eric had given them, finding two men from the tactical team. One man stood over an older man who was lying face down, his hands had already been tied behind his back, while the other man stared at the door as he scratched the side of his head. "What do we have?"

The first man stood from where he squatted, "Dixon took out the suspect when he ran at us. I don't think he's going to be talking for a bit." The man looked at his partner. "We got a door but no idea what is on the other side."

"Eric, how long till you can get here? This needs a delicate touch." Sam stepped up to the door. He looked at Dixon who shrugged and stepped away, giving the Navy Seal space.

"I can be there in thirty." Eric sounded nervous; he never did like leaving the safety of the Mission.

"Better move it," Callen chimed in, stepping past the unconscious man. "We need to get to whatever is on the other side."

Sam rolled his eyes, keeping his comments to himself. Shrugging his shoulder, he reached for the safe's handle.

Callen shook his head, "It's not going to open."

Sam ignored the comment; to the surprise of the four men, the handle turned. Sam raised his weapon and pushed the door open. Stepping to the side, he looked at Callen and couldn't believe what had just happened.

Pale blue lights shone in the darkness as he motioned to his partner. Both Dixon and Grimes, standing on either side of the agents, readied their weapons. Callen raised his hand, silently counting to three by raising his fingers.

"God damn it!" a female voice made everyone stop. The sound of gunfire made Callen lower to his knee. He leaned over looking into the darkness; a single figure stood facing a set of screens. The nearest screen sparked from the damage caused by the bullet the woman fired. She didn't even know they were there. Callen looked at Sam who had seen the same thing. He motioned for Sam to enter, looking back at the two men. Holding his hand up, he moved into the darkness. "You were supposed to die!" the woman yelled at the broken screen. She turned, running her fingers through her hair. Her eyes caught the open door at the same time Callen slipped into the room. She ducked down behind a desk before slipping into the darkness.

The radios went silent; Eric stared at the darkness from Callen's video cam. His hands entangled in his hair. Nell had stopped working to watch as well. "Come on, come on." The tech muttered. It was Sam's voice that made the tech's knees dip.

"Drop your weapon!" Sam yelled. The darkened figure stopped and slowly stood up, no weapon in her grip. "Put your hands behind your head! On your knees! Now! G, I need some light."

Eric smiled, giving Nell a small fist bump, but the joy was short lived. His pad fell from his hands when the yellow light showed the face of the woman he had spent his down time with. Everyone in the room looked at him, the expression on his face turning sickly. "Tatiana?"

Sam smiled as the woman scowled at him; he took her right hand and twisted it behind her back. Zip tying her hands together; he lifted her to her feet. The room was small. Callen kept his pistol pointed at her until Sam gave a quick nod then sat her down on a chair. Both agents looked at the room, there were several computers that were untouched and still operating. From what Callen could tell, these were databases. He saw that the computers had the FBI, LAPD and other secured databases open.

Sam looked around at the pictures of faces stuck to the concrete walls. What disturbed him was that the most of them were pictures of children. And from the look of it, the pictures followed the child to adulthood.

Callen was quick to see the line of pictures missing an adult photo. He looked at the last picture, the shaggy blond hair giving the child's identity away. He was looking at Deeks' life line. Callen turned, staring at the woman. She smiled smugly at him.

"What is this?" he tried to keep his voice calm and under control.

"Fy Swydd." She said. Callen stared at her. The language was not one he was familiar with.

"Who are you?" he stepped closer, hoping Eric and Nell were getting this and it would give him a clue as to what she was saying.

"I benderfynu pwy sy'n byw ac sy'n marw." She smiled leaning toward him. "Hello, Eric."

Eric growled and looked at Nell, pressing his mike. "Callen that's Welsh. She says this is her job and she decides who lives and who dies." Nell stared at him. He also caught Hetty's surprised look. He swallowed the lump in his throat and said, "I know her. She is a girl Deeks was interested in. I've seen her a few times since he went missing."

"Eric, maybe you should head down there." Hetty looked at Nell who looked a little hurt by Eric's revelation.

Nell spun on her heels and walked away from him. He opened his mouth, but no words came. Hetty pointed to the door; bowing his head in defeat, he walked out. Hetty turned to Nell, "Find out who she is."

Kensi stared at Tatiana, who had a smug smile on her face. Kensi felt her hand drop to her side arm. Tori grasped her arm, "Kensi, don't."

"She knows where Deeks is," Kensi said, as she glared at her partner.

"And you're also an agent, and we have rules we need to obey or we are no better then she is." Tori looked at Callen, who glanced up from the papers he was pushing around on the desk. "We'll find Deeks; you don't need to lower yourself to her level. She'll pay for everything she has done, and you'll be able to sleep at night knowing you did the right thing."

"What if I don't want to do the right thing? What if putting a bullet between her eyes is the best thing?" Kensi growled her hand closing around the grip of her pistol.

"You okay, Kensi?" Sam asked, looking between the two women.

Tori glanced at her, biting her lip. "We're good."

Kensi groaned, lifting her hands in the air, and walked toward the computer that had a bullet in its screen. "Fine and dandy. Where is Eric?"

"Right here." He walked in, moving toward Callen. He glanced sideways at Tatiana, who smiled and wiggled in the chair she sat on. Shaking his head, he said, "I can translate for you, but I don't want to talk to her."

"Oh, come on, Eric. I haven't seen you in days. I miss the geeky talk, made me feel like I had a soul mate," Tatiana said in perfect English, smiling coyly.

"Where is Deeks?" Kensi pushed past Tori and grabbed the woman by the collar, ignoring the yells from her partner and Callen.

"You're the little brunette piece that Marty went on and on about." She licked her lips, "Don't worry. He didn't talk about you long; I put an end to that. You were the last thing on his mind once I was done with him."

Kensi raised her hand ready to knock out Tatiana's prefect white teeth, but stopped when Sam caught her arm. He shook his head. Kensi scowled, pushing Tatiana back into the chair.

Laughing, Tatiana repositioned herself and said, "What? You snooze, you lose."

Kensi dove at her but was caught by Sam, who struggled to keep the angry junior agent from getting her hands on Tatiana, who in turn simply laughed and egged her on.

Callen stepped forward, putting himself between the two women. "Get some air, Kensi!" he barked.

She shook her head, glaring at Tatiana. "You're going to answer some questions."

Kensi pushed off Sam and smacked away Tori's hand before walking out of the room.

"Who are you?" Callen leaned over her; his hands gripped the chair arms.

"I go by a lot of names; I think right now you know me as Tatiana Houle." She smiled and looked at Eric who stood back, working on the computer. "Eric, you won't find what you're looking for. You're good at what you do, but I am a goddess when it comes to computers."

Callen turned; she had just given him one of the answers he was looking for. He moved to Eric, "Can you get it running? Whatever is on that computer . . .?"

The new screen flashed, Eric looked up at him. "I win." Standing, he smiled, and turning, he looked at the screen. "She was streaming a video. Yup, here it is."

The screen flickered; the two watched the video play out as two men fought in a circular pit. At first, the images were hard to make out, the spotlight showed them to both be white males; one twice the size of the other, and he seemed to be winning. Callen stared. He watched the smaller man fall back and his head bounce off the cement floor. When the thinner man rolled onto his back, his face was unmistakable. "Eric, can you find out where this is coming from?"

Eric typed at the keyboard. Tatiana started whistling. He shook his head, "It's bouncing off too many servers, and the feed ended over an hour ago." He looked up at Callen, who looked ready to explode. Eric quickly typed something, "I'm sending the link to Nell. Maybe she can find something using the computers at the Mission. I'm only working with half of my resources; I need to get back to Ops."

"By the time you figure it out, they will be long gone," Tatiana mocked. She smiled when Eric turned to look at her. "Come on, Eric, talk to me. I've missed our late night get togethers. You were so nice to me. What changed?"

"You kidnapped my friend?" he stood up, Callen took his arm.

"Deeks had it coming. Damn fool was an easy mark," she said. "He was pathetic. He was nothing like you. You're special and smart. You have potential, unlike the others. Come on, talk with me. Please."

"No," he turned, and, walking back to the computer, he sat down to continue working. His phone buzzed; Callen's phone also went off. He looked at Callen and shook his head, "I won't do it, and curse the wrath of Hetty."

Callen bent down to look at him, "Eric, this is Deeks. You need to talk to her." He looked back at Tatiana, who smiled as she rocked from side to side in her chair. "You've got to take one for the team."

Eric looked at him, then over to her. Groaning he stood up and muttered: "I hate you." He walked over to her. "What do you want, Tatiana?"

"Just to talk," she said as she leaned toward him. "I don't know if you noticed, but it seems like these people are a little mad at me."

"You kidnapped our friend. Our teammate." He pulled back, biting his lip.

"I was doing my job; Deeks was on our radar long before I came to Los Angeles." She looked at Callen from the corner of her eye. "I find people. I track them. I do my job, like you do yours."

Eric ground his teeth. He didn't want to be there, and this was why he avoided going out in the field. "Why Deeks? Why all these people?"

"It doesn't matter why. Not anymore." She leaned forward, "He won't live to see the morning. Not now."

"What do you mean?" Eric found himself leaning toward her; he could feel Sam and Callen moving closer.

"They're going to kill him now. He broke the first rule: Fighters don't kill another fighter." She leaned back smiling. "She'll clear house and move on. Too many bodies piling up. He'll wash up sooner or later."

TBC


	10. Chapter 10

**a/n: thanks everyone for the continued support and comments on my story. I have tried to keep it interesting. And as always cat4444 your insight is always appreciated. **

**Chapter 10**

Everyone stopped. Stopped moving, stopped thinking, even stopped breathing. They stood staring at Tatiana, and all she did was lean back in her chair, pleased with the reaction. Clicking her tongue, she crossed her legs, waiting for them to move, to shake out of the shock of her proclamation. Of course she wanted him dead; he wasn't supposed to make it out of the ring, not with the amount of drugs she had injected into him. Now she had what she wanted. Madame would put an end to him, and she could sleep happily, knowing he had paid for everything he had cost her.

A phone buzzed, followed by another, snapping the team out of their trance. Callen answered his phone first, walking out of the room. "Hetty, please tell me you have something." He looked back into the room. Eric had turned his attention back to the computer, and Sam began to pace.

"Mr. Callen, bring Miss Houle to the boathouse, I will have a word with her." Hetty's voice was cold and vicious.

Callen caught Sam glaring, motioning him to Tatiana. Callen walked away. Kensi leaned against the wall, her face pale, but she didn't seem affected, not like he was. She didn't know yet. He chewed on his cheek. He should tell her, but at the same time, she was too volatile. He couldn't do it. Some things were best kept secret for now, he thought. She pushed off, walking beside him.

"Is she going to tell us where Deeks is?" she looked back when Sam walked out with her. "Callen, for God's sake, what's going on?"

"Go to the hospital. See if you can get anything out of Mr. Head Trauma." He opened the door to the Charger, trying not to look at her. He couldn't. He had to focus. He had to find Deeks. He had to for himself and for his team.

Hetty let out a puff of air and looked at Nell. "I want everything you have on Mr. Deeks, Miss Houle, and the holding company." She headed out of the room. Pausing before exiting, she turned, "If the Director calls, you do not know where I am."

Walking out of the building, Hetty stopped at her vehicle. She paused, taking a deep breath before she slipped out her cell phone. The number flashed. She had felt it go off earlier, but chose to ignore it. She prayed they would find Deeks and that she wouldn't have to deal with Ivan after she had called in the favor. She dialled the number and slid silently into her car. The recording was simple, the location only a few miles from Mission. Pulling into the parking lot of the shopping mall, she parked in a stall. Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She flicked it open and raised it to her ear.

"Herta, I see you." She leaned her head back.

"Come in, Ivan. I will not shoot you." She reached her hand into her purse, feeling the cold metal of her pistol. The door opened and a heavy-set man sat down. He squeezed himself into the seat and moaned.

"Oh, you Americans, smaller is not better." He looked at her and smiled. "It has been far too long."

"Ivan, my time is short." She turned to him, staring. "You found something."

"I have." He lifted a red file. Reaching over, he motioned to drop it into her waiting hand before stopping. "What have you gotten yourself into, Herta? This woman, she scares me."

Hetty plucked the file from his hand. He looked genuinely concerned for her. His large hands caught her hand on the file and held it still. "Come now, Ivan, I am a grown woman, and I do not need your concern."

"You are a good friend, my Herta," he said as he shifted in the seat, tapping her hand. "I have done what you asked, and I have thought what it is that you should pay me with."

"Now is not the time," Hetty pulled her hand away.

"I ask for a simple thing: Dinner with me." He smiled.

Hetty groaned and shook her head; she motioned for him to get out of her car. He opened the door and pulled himself out. Stopping for a moment, his face went rigid, "And now my last gift. A warning. This woman, she has her fingers in many pockets. Watch your back." He closed the door and slipped away from her vehicle. She held the file in her hand, such a small folder. She shook her head, his warning heavy on her mind. She opened the file and began to read the black type. Finally she finished closing the file she had to get to the boathouse and get Tatiana to answer her questions.

Callen sat at the table and leaned forward, watching Tatiana; she hadn't moved since they'd brought her in. She hadn't said anything to them. She sat with her hands in front of her, resting on the table. She didn't look around, just stared at the window. Sam continued his pacing, muttering about how they were running out of time. The door opened to the boathouse as Hetty stepped inside. She looked at the two men as though a life didn't hang in the balance, then walked up to the table, taking her purse off, and looked at Sam.

"I would prefer if you both left." She motioned them to leave. "What I do from here is my own business, and I do not want anyone to be held responsible but myself."

Sam politely snorted, "What's the worst that could happen?" Callen shot him a glare, Hetty rubbed her hands together.

"I could use a nice cup of tea, Mr. Callen." She didn't look at him. She looked at Sam. "And something for myself and Miss Houle to eat. There is a nice bistro not too far from here."

Sam rolled his eyes and stormed out of the building. Callen was silent as he heard the Charger roar to life. "What are you planning to do?"

"Find my agent, Mr. Callen." She moved toward the back room. "Please make sure I am not interrupted."

He nodded and left. Hetty took a deep breath and walked into the room. Tatiana looked up and smiled. Hetty sat down across from her, and laid the file on the table. "And how is everything Miss Houle?" She snorted. "I'm sorry. Where are my manners? Elizabeth Yakpov."

Elizabeth froze; her mouth opened and closed. She glared, "You know nothing about me." Her words came out harsh. Her long fingers knitted together.

Hetty leaned back in her chair, a soft smile crossed her lips. "No, my dear, I know absolutely nothing about _who_ you are." She opened the file and spread the papers across the table so that Elizabeth could see them. "I know _everything_ about you."

Tatiana scanned the papers; her lips pressed together, the tips of her fingers turned white. Hetty crossed her arms and waited for her to make the next move. In a brief emotional moment, Elizabeth fanned her hand out over the table, casting the papers to the floor. Her chair scraped on the floor as she quickly stood and leaned over the table.

Hetty looked at her, unfazed by the outburst; she picked up a simple photo of an older woman with dark black hair standing between a teenage boy and a young brown-haired girl. "It's a shame to lose your whole family, to have your brother taken from your house when you're sleeping." She looked at the smiling faces, at how happy they looked. She set the photo down and pushed it toward Elizabeth. "Must have been painful to learn that the very group that took him is the same one you work for today."

Elizabeth froze, looking down at the photo. "It must be hard to work day in and day out knowing that your brother and mother died because of Serafina Volynskii, or as you call her The Madame."

Elizabeth looked up, "You are lying." Her voice shook, tears crested her eyes. Her middle finger traced the faces in the photo. Hetty reached over, gently tapping her hand.

Callen ignored Sam's grumbles when they arrived back at the boathouse. He carried a cup and a brown paper bag with two sandwiches. He opened the door to find Hetty standing and talking on the phone. She turned to the two men and smiled, "That took you long enough." She looked at the cup and bag in Callen's hands. "I have asked Nell to download the address to your phones; we have a team already en route. Kensi and Tori are on their way, and I would suggest you get a move on and bring back our Mr. Deeks."

"How the hell did you . . ." Sam stepped forward looking at the monitor. Elizabeth sat with her head in her hands. Callen stopped him from going any further, whatever Hetty did worked, and it didn't matter now. Sam stopped. He nodded, quickly realizing that the enigma of Hetty would remain a mystery even to him. "We'll bring him home, Hetty."

She nodded, taking the food from Callen, "Hurry. If Tatiana is telling the truth, they will be cleaning house, and after that, the odds of us finding Mr. Deeks alive will be very slim."

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

**a/n: I figure I would break with my normal routine of one at a time and give you an extra chapter. ENJOY!**

**Chapter 11**

Deeks woke to bone-numbing cold; his body shivered, reminding him of his injuries, and he groaned. Wanting to sit up, he instead found his joints stiff and unwilling to move. His mouth dry, he worked his tongue, trying to produce even a small amount of saliva. His left eye refused to open, and the entire left side of his face pulsated with heat. Through his right eye, he could only see blackness.

Groping around himself with his fingers, he felt everything within reach, trying to find a clue to where he was. The ground and walls around him were rough and wet. He grumbled and, pushing back the stiffness, he began to sit up. But, when he had only gotten about a foot high, his head made contact with a hard surface. His hand instantly went to the object in his way. He began to panic when he realised it surrounded him; there was no opening, no way out that he could sense. His deep, panicked breaths burned in his chest, a whimper escaping his tightening throat.

"I won. I did what you wanted." The whimper became a sob, the sound echoing within his tomb.

Fatigue gripped him and thrust him from his panic into semi consciousness; his thoughts filled with dark shadows. His teammates didn't come and offer him support or hope. His heart dropped, his will to live beginning to slip away. They had left him. When he needed them the most, they had left him alone.

The constant sound of water dripping pulled him from his dark musings. He looked around. The noise was coming from ahead of him. His feet started moving first, kicking and wiggling. His body moving slowly back and forth, he inched toward the sound of the water. His body didn't give up; something deep inside him wanted to live.

As he got closer to the sound of the dripping water, dull light filtered down from a crack above his head and illuminated his tomb, giving him the chance to take a look around. It wasn't a tomb but a narrow shaft. His heart caught in his throat; his breath hitched. This was different from the hole. It wasn't hot or on an angle, nor did he lie on a trolley.

He began to push faster, moving toward the dripping water. What had they done to him? He wondered, fist slapping against the stone. He'd won the fight, and she'd promised him freedom.

Water dripped against his forehead, making him stop. He touched the roof of the shaft, his fingers running across cracks. The water dripping on his face was cold; it felt good and eerie at the same time. He touched his fingers to his mouth. He was so thirsty. Gagging, he spit out the cool water, it was salty. He was close to the ocean. He pushed his hands against the walls, feeling the dripping water. Maybe this was another test; maybe this was a final cruel joke. He had to find his freedom himself or die trying.

The walls gave his exploring fingers no signs of fatigue that he could use to his advantage. Pausing, his fingers traced down a jagged crack. Rolling onto his side, he explored the marks more closely. Running his finger over them, he determined that they were not cracks. He wished he had more light so that he could see what had piqued his interest. Something caught his palm as his hand dropped to the ground. Hissing, his fingers moved to pull out the object of his discomfort. It was small, oval and, for the most part, smooth. He gripped it and rolled it back toward the dim light. He stared, bringing the thing closer to his face. A nail. It was a human nail. His body convulsed, he cried out throwing the nail as far from himself as he could in the confined space.

His hands slapped against the walls. His cries burned his throat, but he didn't care. They had given him his freedom but in a way that virtually ensured he would never live to see any of his friends again. He silenced his fear. He needed to think. They got him in, which meant there had to be a way out. He peered at the cracks, feeling the moisture against his skin, thinking about the building he had been in.

"What are you planning?" he whispered to himself. He moved around, his hands splashing in the water now pooled around him from the drips. His heart jumped, his breath trembled. "The tide. The tide is coming in," he groaned. In pushing himself downward, he had moved toward his own death. The water would come in and fill the shaft. He would drown, and his body would eventually float out somewhere. He groaned. That was her plan. He _would_ see his friends again. He laughed dryly; they would be the ones to find him.

Wiggling his way back was much easier, the water raised him just enough that he could move faster. He stopped to rest, only to be reminded when the water rose higher that it wouldn't give him the chance to rest for long, not if he wanted to live. He had to move at a steady pace. His head constantly smacked against the roof of the shaft as he tried to see something in the darkness. A growing headache made it harder to navigate his way through the shaft. His limbs began to go numb from the cold, making it harder to move, harder to push.

The water rose higher, forcing him to press his nose against the top of the shaft; he couldn't tell if he was making any headway now. His body numbed by the water; his vision lost to the darkness. He pressed his hands to the roof and walked them one over the other, muttering to himself to keep moving, to keep going.

As he dragged himself along, his left hand suddenly hit a void, causing him to lose his forward momentum and sink under the water. Cold, salty water filled his throat; as he pushed himself up again, his head bounced off the roof. His hand moved to an opening, a ledge. He wiggled himself just a little further, and then raised his body. Holding onto the ledge, he couldn't make out anything except a dim blue light a few feet above him. He tried to lift himself up, but found lying was less stressful on his aching body.

The water rose past his chest, and continued to rise until he felt it against his cheek. His one useful eye flickered as the water lapped his cheek. Exhausted, he relaxed. He had made it this far. He was proud he hadn't just let himself drown.

He shivered as the water continued to rise and lap against his body. His hand slapped against the water. He did love the water. He again looked at the circle of blue light above him. Just a moment to rest and he would find a way to get to the light. He was, after all, rather tired and needed just a few moment's rest.

"Call 911!" a male voice shouted, jolting Deeks from his reverie; he didn't want to see the face that the voice belonged to. He didn't want to find The Madame standing over him, her sickening smile reminding him she had won again. "Maddy, for Christ's sake, call 911!"

Oversized hands clutched his underarms lifting him up; his back ran across something smooth and equally cold. The hands let go of him letting his body rest, something warm draped over his shaking body, Deek's teeth chattered. He convinced himself to open his good eye to look at who every found him. Praying it wasn't the Madame. He stared back at a set of dark brown eyes and a face covered in a heavy black beard. He didn't know the face, he didn't know the man. He began to panic, pushing at the hands at the man touching him, pushing them away. He fought with every bit of energy he could find within himself. The man's hands wrapped around his wrists, the terror that echoed through his battered body was instant. He needed to get away for him; he slipped backward, his body tumbling into the opening. His head struck something solid before launching him into darkness.

TBC


	12. Chapter 12

**a/n: at the sounds of being repetitive, thanks to all the reviews, favorites and followers. And to cat4444, don't matter how red it is, I still appreciate all the help you have given me. **

**Chapter 12**

Kensi ran the plan over in her mind. It was so simple: Four teams, four entry points. Her team, Charlie, was to go through the main doors, secure the lobby, and move on. She had run the plan over and over in her mind since Callen gave the go ahead. Get in, clear, secure, and move on.

She was now lying on her back staring at the darkening sky in the parking lot, her head pounding. She couldn't remember how she got there. Her mind began sifting through the events that led to her being where she now was, the memories, trying to justify her lying down while on a raid. The order had come in; the green light given. They had been running through the parking lot. She focussed on the doors: Her entry point. She remembered Callen's voice yelling something, but she couldn't remember anything beyond that, just blackness and pain.

She let her head roll to the left and found herself staring at a young man. His white name tag told her who she was looking at. "Hill?" Her voice burned in her throat. Coughing, she pulled herself toward him. Her left leg sent blinding pain pulsating through her body, and she paused, biting back a groan.

Resting her head on the pavement, she focussed on her breathing, on keeping it slow and calm, waiting for the worst of it to subside. Blinking back tears, she said, "Hey, Hill, you with me? Come on solider, sound off." She continued to pull herself to his side. Grabbing his arm, she pulled herself up so that she could check on him. She froze. His soft blue eyes stared sightlessly at the sky, and blood ran from his nose and the corner of his mouth.

"Eric!" she pressed her ear piece, "I have a man down. I need medical." She pressed her hand against Hills' neck. Pulling her hand back, she shook the tears from her eyes. "Eric? Callen? Anybody? Do you copy me?" she said as she pressed her earpiece again. Silence was her only response as she looked away from the body at her side. She fought back the nausea and slowly looked at what used to be the front doors of the hospital. Now there was only a large, gaping black hole. She looked around at the blackened bodies of her team littered amongst the debris of the building.

She swallowed the bile rising to her lips. Deeks was in there. The cry started low in the pit of her stomach, reaching past her lips. Her body shook. She was supposed to find him and save him. She was supposed to be there for him. She failed. She couldn't be here anymore. She struggled to stand, pushing past the throbbing pain and her protesting body's desire to stay down. She blinked past the tears. Slowly rising to her feet, she turned, looking at the vehicles. She had to leave; she needed to get as far from there as she could. The farther the better, because, in her mind, he could still be alive if she forgot the carnage. She could believe he had just quit and moved away if she could erase the smoldering building from her memories.

Her first step dropped her to her knees. Crying out, she slapped her hand against the pavement. Why did she have to be so weak? She pushed again, rising upright. Her steps became steady. Her left leg was stiff and throbbing, but it moved. She could get away from there.

"Kensi!" she heard Sam's voice and shook her head. He wasn't calling for her. This wasn't happening. If she acknowledged him, then it was real. She stumbled forward, tears blurring her vision. She wanted to believe Deeks was alive and relaxing on a beach somewhere. She felt Sam grab hold of her, trying to stop her. She pushed at him, shoving him away. He tried to grab her again, tried to stop her.

"No!" she felt his arms encircle her, his chest pressing against her face. Her tears soaked his shirt. "Why? Why are you doing this?" she said in a voice muffled by his shirt, "Why can't you just let me go? Just let me go."

"Kens, come on, you're hurt and not thinking clearly. He wasn't inside." Sam's voice shook, "This was accidental, a game to throw us off, to make us give up. He's out there, and we can't give up."

"He's dead, Sam. He was inside that building." She slammed her hands against his chest. "Let me forget. Just let me forget."

He held her close, the sound of a siren wailing in the evening air. "He wasn't inside, Kensi. He couldn't have been. Not our Deeks. Not our Deeks."

She stood in his arms, hanging onto him. Not wanting to look back or think. Even when the paramedics pulled her away, she kept her eyes closed, refusing to accept that her partner was dead.

-NCIS LA-

Peter Vrolick leaned back in his chair. He hated the night shift. Looking up at the ceiling, he groaned. The most excitement all night had been the John Doe that was brought in three hours ago. Concussion, dehydration, malnutrition, beaten, and a tox screen with results that had been off the chart. He had been found in a storm drain by two transients that often frequented the area.

The paramedics figured he had overdosed and brought him in. Peter had done his due diligence and reported it to the LAPD, but after three hours, no officer had come, and he didn't really expect one. A homeless man, near death and high as a kite, seemed to be the norm in his ER and, really, they were all low priority. He knew once the IVs were finished and John was awake, they would dress him and send him on his way. The police would come by in a day or two and make a report and that was it. He scratched his beard and groaned; he kicked his feet off his desk and glanced at the clock. Five more hours before he could go home and call this day a wash.

The ambulance radio squawked, almost making him topple over. He turned as the ER nurse stood up. "We have three ambulances ten minutes out. Explosion at an abandoned hospital. We're expecting multiple casualties. I've paged Doctor Cardinal and any available interns." Peter stood up, a smile crossing his lips.

"Clear out all the ER rooms. Move anyone who is low priority to the hallway. And let surgery know as well." He hurried to the entrance, waiting for some entertainment.

It only took a matter of moments before the ER was a cyclone of controlled chaos; the more they cleared people, the more flooded in. Peter stood back wiping his brow. He stabilized and pushed them off to surgery or off to other hospitals awaiting the overflow.

He was getting good at moving around when he heard the commotion from the hallway. His John Doe was awake and not liking where he was, his screams echoing down the hallways. Peter tried to ignore the yells, but soon found them wrecking his momentum. He tossed his gloves to the floor in frustration and pushed his way out of the ER. The man was sitting up, his swollen face transfixed in horror.

"Hey, buddy, calm down. You're in a hospital." The right hook the man suddenly threw caught Peter off guard, throwing him back against the wall. The homeless man was on his feet, ripping the IV line from his arm and screaming. Jumping on Peter, he continued his attack.

"Security!" a nurse or someone cried out, calling for help.

Seconds later the deranged man was pulled off Peter, his screams turning feral as he struck out at Bob, the oversized night watchman. Peter stared, watching the thin man fight as though it was the only thing keeping him alive.

He pushed himself up the wall, amazed that the man still had fight left in him. The nurse that followed him out to the commotion already had the syringe in her hand. He didn't hesitate to snatch it from her hands, pulling the cap off he moved forward watching the two men struggle in the hallway. He couldn't have this homeless man causing any more problems. After all, he had an ER to run. Pushing forward, he plunged the needle into the man's thigh. The rage turned to loud sobs and pleas for mercy.

Bob groaned, pushing the man to the floor, his knee pressed against his back. Pulling the man's bruised arms behind his back, Bob cuffed them together. Peter stepped back, looking toward the silent ER. A large man stepped forward.

"Get off of him," the man growled, reaching for Bob. "Get off of him now!"

"Sam," a blond man said as he pushed through the crowd of people in the hallway. "What the hell has gotten into you?"

"I assure you the man is fine," Peter stepped in the way of the man called Sam. "The drugs in his system are wearing off, and it is quite normal to have this kind of reaction. He will be moved to another area where he won't be a bother."

Sam glared at him, his jaw clenched and unclenched. "Get out of my way." His voice cold, the blond man stepped beside Peter. He placed his hand on Sam's chest, keeping him from moving forward. "G, it's Deeks."

"Sam, calm down, you did hit your head. . ." G's voice trailed off as he slowly turned around, looking at the battered homeless man lying at his feet. His voice cracked as he anxiously said, "Sam, call Hetty." Turning to Peter, he continued, "That man is not homeless. He is a Federal Agent."

**a/n: I know I know I couldn't hold out any longer, I hope you all understand. His pain and suffering is far from over I promise.**

**TBC**


	13. Chapter 13

Animal I have Become

**a/n: I would like to apologize to my readers for the massive lapse in getting the chapters out. After a much needed vacation, I have come back rested and with new Ideas for my story. So thank you for waiting and here it is. **

Two things came to Kensi's mind when the doctor talked to her about her injuries, the first was that she would be feeling sore for a while, the other was Deeks. In one single moment, he was gone. She had hung on to the hope that she would see him again for the past three weeks. A lump settled in her throat, and tears stung her eyes. She never got to tell him what she thought of him. She was sure the last thing she said to him wasn't stellar and she would have to live for the rest of her life knowing she'd let him slip through her fingers.

The balding doctor sat down on his stool, moving into her line of sight. His dark-rimmed glasses hung on the tip of his nose as he looked at her and his cold hand touched her wrist. "I assure you, Agent Blye, the cast will only be temporary and, with a few pills, in a few weeks you'll be right as rain."

She focused on him and gave a weak smile, "Thank you."

He nodded, tapping her hand. Turning, he whispered something to a blond nurse holding a clipboard. "I'm going to give you something to relax you as you were in the primary blast zone, and I would like to keep you overnight for observation." He looked at her and, again, Kensi's thoughts were a million miles from the ER. "Your partner has been taken to surgery, the OR doctor has assured me she should be alright."

"Thank you," Kensi muttered, fighting the tears that ran down her cheeks. The blond nurse gave her a sympathetic smile when she walked past Kensi, se began prepping the needed materials for the cast.

The balding doctor leaned over, "I'll move you out of here once we get your arm wrapped. In the meantime, I can arrange a staff counsellor to come and talk to you."

"No, I'm fine," her voice cracked.

He leaned back on his stool and shook his head. He wrote something down, finally handing the clipboard to the nurse. He stood up, placing his hand on her good shoulder and, giving it a light squeeze.

The casting of her left arm took no time, the material felt warm and relaxing as it set. After the intern was pleased with his handiwork, he stepped back, taking a syringe off the tray the nurse had set down. "Here, this will relax you, and in no time you'll be home. We have a bed ready for you, and Stephanie will take you there."

Kensi's hand shook when he pressed the needle into her right arm. He looked at her to make sure she was alright; she gave him a slight nod. Not feeling much like talking, she just wanted to forget this day ever happened.

"Well, let's get you to your room," Stephanie said, stepping forward, offering Kensi a hand, and, after she helped her to a waiting wheelchair added, "If you want, I can have someone tell you about your partner once she's out of surgery."

Kensi nodded, the pain medication already making her drowsy. She felt her head droop, the haze coming over her making it hard to focus as she was pushed out of the room. She licked her lips slowly; feeling like she had just drunk a bottle of whisky by herself. She shivered, holding her arm to her chest. She let her head roll, looking at the passing walls. She focused on a gurney as they moved past, taking vague notice of the man lying on it calmly. She blinked, shaking her head as she tried to clear out the cobwebs taking over her thoughts. She knew that face, it was swollen, but she knew that face. She craned her neck, trying to get Stephanie to stop, but her movements were already affected by the sedative. She screamed on the inside. What had they given her? "Deeks?!" She called out, trying to shift in the wheelchair. As Stephanie put her hand on her shoulder, Kensi said, "Go back, I know that man." Kensi tried to drop her feet, tried to stop the forward movement. Instead, her foot caught the wheel, and she painfully pulled it back.

"Honey, that's a homeless man that was brought in this afternoon." Stephanie paused for a moment. Kensi groaned, unable to stop the forward momentum.

"Please. I know that man. Take me back." Kensi pleaded, her words already slurred, and the chair moved farther away. "Please."

"You've had a hard day, Miss Blye." Stephanie turned down another hallway toward an elevator. "I can't imagine what you're going through. I'll take you to your room, so you can rest."

Kensi shook her head, whimpering like a five year old. When the wheelchair finally came to a stop, she dropped her feet. That was Deeks. She was sure of it. She needed to check. She had to make sure. Struggling to stand, Kensi ignored Stephanie's pleas to sit down. Her first step seemed steady, it was the hall that tilted on her. Her head came into full contact with the cold hospital floor and everything faded.

He couldn't remember how he got on the bed; he couldn't remember how he got away from the Madame. But he felt safe and warm; the pounding in his head began to fade, and he became suddenly aware that he was now very hungry as his stomach began to gnaw on itself. He struggled to open his eye, looking around the familiar, sanitized feel of a hospital. He tried to zone out the chaos going on around him. It wasn't the dark feel of before. Maybe he was safe. Maybe he got away. But still the question of _how _lingered in his mind.

He raised his arm, trying to draw attention to himself. His head flopped over, his eye staring across the hallway he found himself lying in. A face moved past him, a face he dreamt of, a face that kept him sane when he was sure he would have lost it all. He heard her voice call out, "Deeks?!" and with that, everything hit him at once. The pain seeped through his walls, the anger washed over him. He grabbed the first person to walk past him, a younger blond lady. She cried out, trying to pull herself away from him. He held on, sitting up from the confines of his bed.

"Where the hell am I? What have you done to Kensi?" She cried out louder, trying to pull away. Someone grabbed his hand and pushed him roughly back. Deeks growled low.

"Hey, buddy, calm down. You're in a hospital."

He didn't care where he was. His hand balled into a fist, and he punched the stranger's jaw. In no time, he lunged off the bed at the blurred figure. If Kensi was here, no one would stop him from making sure she was alright. His knuckles pressed against softness, but before he could interrogate the stranger, he was ripped away from the man. Large, heavy arms wrapped around his chest, pinning his arms to his side. The panic rose until Deeks could no longer think past the fact that whoever had him was going to kill him. He struggled using every part of his body, in the hope of slipping out of the hold.

A sharp pain brought him back to reality; his eye snapped to the man holding a syringe, whose eye was already beginning to swell. Deeks could feel the warm feeling as the drugs moved through his bloodstream like so many times before. They had drugged him. He was defenseless now. A long drawn-out sob rattled out of his chest as he was lowered to the floor. "Please, I didn't mean it. I'm sorry," he whimpered, praying the man would take pity on him.

The man stepped back, unconcerned by his pleas, as Deeks' arms were pulled roughly behind his back. Cold metal cuffs wrapped around his wrists, and he wanted so much to struggle, but he needed to show them he was submissive, that he would not lash out again. Soft green eyes filled his vision, followed by a chiselled face. He knew that man. His lips moved, "Deeks?" the man called his name. His hand touched his shoulder. Deeks resisted the pull of the new drugs entering his system. Reaching through his memories, he finally found the name to go with the face: G. Callen, and he smiled.

"Callen, I promise I'll be good," he began to whimper again. His body shuddered in fear as he was lifted to a standing position.

"You're okay, Deeks," another voice intruded, assaulting his memories. He turned, using his one good eye to stare into Sam Hanna's soulful brown eyes. He found them. His body slumped, and the whimpers turned to laughter. He struggled to get as close to the man as he could, fighting to stay in this moment, trying to push back the darkness that crept into the edges of his vision. Fearing he would only wake to find himself back in the shaft and drowning.

He heard a voice say, "You're safe," just as his eye rolled back and his body went limp.

Sam couldn't move, he had seen the detective go through a lot, but the man lying before him was broken. A mere shell of the man he used to know. Deeks let out a shaken breath, his body going more lax than Sam thought possible. "Deeks? Deeks?" he looked back at the doctor. Callen stood transfixed, staring at the Detective, his own features were blank. Sam could tell Callen was studying the injuries and balling up any anger and pushing it aside.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know, he doesn't look, he came in listed as a John Doe." Peter said as he stepped forward, checking Deeks' vitals. "I gave him a sedative. He'll be alright,".

Sam tried not to snort, "How bad is he?"

Peter straightened his jacket, and looked past him.

Sam turned looking at the other nurses and doctors moving around. "I can wait." He stepped aside, letting Peter past him. There were people in more need at the moment. He saw Callen stopping the doctor and, with a quick conversation, Peter motioned for the nurse standing against the wall trying to remain invisible to come forward.

"Get him cleaned up and in a room," he looked at Sam and quickly walked away.

Callen walked forward, "Sam, you stay with him. I'll let Hetty know."

Sam only looked up for a brief moment to give a tight nod. He watched the nurse as if everything she did was hurting the detective. He followed after them as they pushed the bed down the hallway. He was not going to let Deeks out of his sight, not yet anyway. He slipped into the elevator, his eyes falling to Deeks' bruised body. He tightened his hands around the metal rail on the bed, his jaw clenched. He was going to make those responsible pay for doing this to Deeks. He quickly found himself thinking about Kensi and how she reacted today. A smile crossed his lips. He would have a hell of a fight coming when Kensi found out Deeks was alive. He might even have to wait in line to get vengeance.

**TBC**


End file.
